Read Online Duet by Eden Winters - Free Book Online

behavior, Aillil also wasn’t above helping the locals with plowing or chopping wood. With the majority of local able-bodied men pressed into the English military, many a farm lacked strong arms and sturdy backs.
    Whenever at home, he and the teacher behaved civilly toward each other, though little changed otherwise. Aillil still found himself seeking fault, and the Englishman steadfastly avoided unnecessary contact. The loss of the anticipated violin lessons reduced the time spent in each other’s company, time Aillil wanted. Because of the music , he sternly reasoned. In the evenings after their meal, he’d love to relax with a tune, and eagerly awaited the arrival of the new violins.
    The more Aillil observed, the more he realized how different Malcolm was from the Sassenach his grandfather warned him of, and completely unlike the ones who came a’calling, hands extended for gold.
    It caught him off guard to discover the man slinking down the stairs one day, taking great care to muffle his footsteps. Aillil flattened as much as possible into a recessed doorway, alarmed by the odd behavior. What was Malcolm doing creeping from the sons’ wing? Where were Niall and the others? Peeking out from the doorway, Aillil watched the teacher cross the great hall, clear green eyes darting this way and that when he passed by. Where was he going? Eoghan’s rooms and study lay that way, which must mean the little sneak intended either spying or stealing.
    Aillil followed, heavily muscled body less suited to stealth than the teacher’s lithe form. Instead of Eoghan’s rooms, once he’d crossed the hall, Aillil’s quarry opened the entry door and slipped outside, running for the barn. Aillil hesitated a moment before pursuing, no longer concerned about being seen. What had the man done? Had he stolen? Had he harmed one of the lads?
    The teacher was fast, but no match for Aillil’s longer strides. Aillil quickly caught up, full weight crashing into the smaller man, tumbling them both to the ground in a pile of loose hay. “Get off me, you great oaf! What do you think you’re doing?” Malcolm bellowed.
    Staring down at the man lying provocatively beneath him prompted lewd thoughts. “I’m stopping your escape,” Aillil barked, ignoring the pleasant friction caused by Malcolm’s squirming. Loose red hair fanned out around the man’s head like flames. If the Englishman was a thief, he made a comely one. Without thinking, Aillil ground his hardening cock against his captive, surprised to find an answering hardness hidden beneath the teacher’s breeches.
    “Let me up,” Malcolm cried, struggling to get free, “this instant!”
    “Not until you tell me why you were running away!”
    The teacher stilled, fire dancing in his eyes. “I wasn’t running away!”
    The pounding of feet fast approached. Aillil rolled away, bracing for the inevitable questions. He looked up into the grinning faces of his brothers. “Thanks for catching him for us, Aillil,” Dughall said. “He has to hunt us now.”
    “What?” Aillil’s confused gaze darted from his brothers to his red-haired nemesis, who eyed him with great annoyance.
    The Englishman sighed, wiping hay and dirt from his clothes. “We’re playing Fox and Hounds,” he explained, twirling a russet curl around his fingers. “I’m the fox, obviously.”
    “And we’re the hounds!” his brothers chorused.
    A game. Not a diabolical plot, but a game. Aillil stammered an apology to “the fox,” who appeared quite unhappy.
    “Since your brother caused my untimely demise, I think this game needs two foxes,” Malcolm suggested with an evil grin.
    The boys nodded their approval, and Aillil found himself wishing he’d minded his own business.
    That night after falling asleep, he dreamed of the handsome Englishman lying in a bed of hay, hair fanned out around his head. Instead of righteous anger, a look of longing crossed those pale features, and his nude body welcomed Aillil