“To be sure, I’m no’ looking.” He wasn’t about to do so.
He still wasn’t sure this betrothal – a marriage between them – would work.
And if he looked where she wanted him to, he’d be lost.
Every shred of restraint would leave him.
“It’s only my Thor’s hammer.” The rustle of cloth proved she’d hitched her skirts even higher. “I want you to see it. Once you do, you’ll understand why I’ve always been drawn to Nought.”
Kendrew frowned, puzzling. “You wear a hammer amulet?”
He’d only ever seen her amber necklace.
To his surprise, she laughed. It was a light, wondrous sound that did him such good. Warmth began to curl around his heart, chasing his resistence.
Almost he could believe her, trust that they could…
He pushed the possibility from his mind. Honor kept him from letting her see how easily he was capitulating. If she was weak, yearning for a match that would surely end in sorrow, he needed strength.
He inhaled sharply, bracing himself. “If you wear Thor’s amulet on a chain about your waist” – he’d heard of such adornments – “I dinnae wish to see it.”
He did, fiercely.
“Lower your skirts.” He put a thread of steel in his voice. “Your amulet chain-”
“But I do not wear the hammer.” The dimple in her cheek flashed again. “It’s a beauty mark, low on my belly and just above-”
“Dinnae say it.” Kendrew pressed his fingers to her lips, stopping her before she said something that would surely make him even more uncomfortable.
He cleared his throat, his heart thumping hard. “There is a hammer mark on you?”
“Thor’s very own.” She sounded pleased. “It’s small, but the same shape as the amulet. If you look, you’ll see.”
And this time he lowered his gaze.
She hadn’t lied.
Tiny, but distinct, the perfect outline of Thor’s hammer winked at him from the left side of her lower abdomen. Wonder filled him. Never had he seen anything more beautiful. The mark was proof that she, of all women, could love Nought as no one else. That she wouldn’t just dwell here, but would thrive in this place of wild and primordial splendor that meant so much to him.
She was Thor’s blessed.
And…
Kendrew lost the battle. If she were a man, an opponent on the field of combat, he’d be flat on his back now, his life spent.
As things stood, he dropped to his knees, looking at the mark more closely. “Lady, you take my breath.” He glanced up at her, almost overwhelmed by emotion. “Why did you not tell me of this before?”
“When?” The hint of a smile that had been playing about her lips turned warm and delightfully wicked. No, triumphant. “You have done everything imaginable to keep me from having the chance.”
Kendrew returned the smile, something inside him splitting wide. Warmth, sweet and golden, rushed through him. And from somewhere even deeper than his heart - perhaps his soul? – a great floodtide of happiness swept him so swiftly that he felt almost dizzy.
“I was a fool.” And I would’ve loved you with or without Thor’s mark on you.
But now…
“Sweet Isobel. You are mine and I shall never let you go.” Leaping to his feet, he pulled her roughly against him, running his hands over her shoulders and her back, kissing her hard and deep.
“I will show you Nought’s glory, take you to places you never dreamed existed.” He tore his mouth from hers, trailed kisses across her cheek and down the side of her neck. He reveled in the smooth warmth of her skin, the heady freshness of her spring violet scent. “I will share wonders with you that will make you believe Thor himself carved this land. You’ll see more beauty than-”
“I already do.” She laughed, the sound beauty in itself. Her joy making his heart swell so much that it hurt.
But then she took his face in her hands and kissed him even more passionately than he’d just kissed her. And as she did, he forget everything except the glory of her and how deeply he’d fallen in love with her.
Who would have thought it?
Thor, perhaps, who’d see a great jest in sending him the temptation of lady.
And what a temptation she was. He should have known from the start that he wouldn’t be able to resist her. He could hear the gods’ laughter in Asgard. And his mind reeled with the brilliance of their mischief.
Most of all, he appreciated their wisdom.
And his in bringing her to Dreagan Falls.
No one would disturb them here. He’d left a guard on the far side of the cliff passage. No one could see them from the sheer rock walls surrounding this sacred place. And the thunder of the falls would dampen any lustful cries Isobel made when he finished what they’d started at the dreagan stones.
“Sweet lass, you might already love my land” – he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer – “but we are only beginning.”
He made the promise against her hair.
And then he did something he had never thought he’d do. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and prepared to make love to a lady.
His lady.
And he was going to claim her right here in the heart of dreagan territory.
How wonderful that felt.
Chapter 17
Isobel knew she’d won when she felt a tremor rip through Kendrew’s big, strong body as he held her so closely. She also sensed a shifting of the air around them. Even the light changed, seeming brighter. And the patches of rough heather and bare cliff almost glowed. Something had happened. Perhaps Dreagan Falls was more than just a special place, made extraordinary by the foaming white water plunging down its high, tight-walled ravine.
There was surely a touch of magic here.
How else could she feel so strongly that the rocks and even the cold, spray-drenched air embraced her? This sacred-to-Kendrew site letting her know that now, at last, she held his heart.
That it was so, stood certain.
She’d seen it on his face when he’d reached for her. And it’d been there again when he’d shut his eyes and inhaled just now. She’d watched him carefully. And her hopes had soared because he’d looked as if he were drawing sustenance. A man gathering strength before he slid into a deep, dark abyss of no return.
She was that abyss.
And she could feel the need, desire, and love, thrumming inside him. Longing as fierce as hers darkened his eyes. Yearning and want quickened his breath, the look on his face saying so much more than words.
He might be battle-hardened and powerfully muscled, but he hadn’t been able to hide those oh-so-exhilarating signs of his capitulation.
But – oh, how her heart lifted – theirs was a shared victory.
As if he agreed, he looked down at her, his gaze heating. Slowly, he measured the length of her, the appreciation in his eyes warming her. Although she’d dropped her skirts, he glanced again and again at the place where he now knew she bore Thor’s brand. Seeing him look there made her breasts tighten with desire. And tingles stirred in the lowest part of her belly.
Delicious sensations.
And she could tell by looking at him that he was equally roused.
She’d never dreamed her Thor’s hammer beauty mark would affect him so fiercely.
She’d hoped.
Just as she’d known the mark proved that she belonged at Nought: beside him, and as his lady.
“So you are Thor’s chosen. I am well-pleased. But I would know what other secrets are you keeping from me?” He lifted a brow, his tone teasing.
He was so devastatingly good-looking. “Will you tell me? Or must I seek such treasures myself?”
“I...” She bit her lip, her pulse racing. “I have no other secrets.”
“But you have treasures.” His voice deepened, exciting her. “I have seen them once. And I have ne’er forgotten. In truth, you haunt my dreams.”
“You wish to
charm me.” The words escaped her before she could catch them.
“It is you who beguile me, Isobel.” He studied her face, his gaze steady as he looked deep into her eyes. “You have done so for long now. In truth” – he pressed a kiss to her hair – “just as you bear the mark of Thor, I carry your name carved on my heart.”
“Oh!” Isobel felt her knees weaken.
He took her breath. Everything about him, and this place he clearly loved, made her skin prickle with anticipation. His words melted her. She loved him so much that it almost hurt to look at him. Just now, wind tore at his plaid and whipped his rich, auburn hair, making her want to plunge her fingers into the tossing mane. She’d then grip tight and pull his head down to her for more of his devouring kisses.
But she couldn’t move.
The way he was looking at her was too delicious. She couldn’t bear to do anything that would break their sizzling eye contact.
“Can it be, my sweet” – he urged her back against the rock wall – “that you burn for me as hotly as I ache for you?”
“You know I do.” Isobel lifted her chin. Never had she been so bold. But her heart hammered wildly and every part of her hummed with desire. She felt exhilarated, incandescent with happiness. She tilted her head back so she could hold his gaze, certain she could look into his clear blue eyes forever and always want him.
She’d waited so long for this triumph.
And now…
Victory made her almost light-headed.
She took a deep breath, her gaze locked with his. She couldn’t wait to see what he would do next. The slow smile beginning to tug at one corner of his mouth indicated he had something most wicked in mind. The hungry look in his eyes proved her right.
“As you have no more secrets, Isobel, I will share one with you.” He swept his hands up her back and over her shoulders, reaching round to cup and plump her breasts. “I would have you naked. Stripped bare here at Dreagan Falls, your lush bounty mine alone to enjoy.”
She melted, the thought sending rivers of molten heat pouring straight into the tingly woman’s place between her thighs.
“So you dinnae mind?” His fingers were already undoing her bodice laces. He opened her gown quickly, a muscle jerking in his jaw as he looked down at her nakedness. Cold air washed across her, chilling her skin and tightening her nipples. Clearly pleased, he took the material in both hands, easing it down to her waist.
“Gods, but you’re lovely.” He splayed his fingers across the full rounds of her breasts, caressing and squeezing. When she closed her eyes, shivering at the wondrous sensations, he began circling the taut crests with his thumb. Wind whistled past them, but he kept her pressed to the rock wall. He slid an arm around her, bracing her as the gusts buffeted them, each chill blast bringing the heady scent of clean, icy water and cold, wet stone.
“Being here would make any woman beautiful.” Isobel tipped back her head and breathed deep, reveling in the wildness, her entire body now tingling with the same thrilling female need as the dark, secret place between her legs. And still, he rubbed her breasts, rolling the hardened peaks between his fingers, and then making her gasp when he splayed his big hands over her flesh, palming her.
She arched her back, pressing into him, needing his touch. She ached for a deeper, more tantalizing intimacy. The kind he’d shown her so briefly in the shadows of Castle Haven’s entry hall when he’d slid his hand up her thigh, his fingers just barely grazing her neediest place.
“Kendrew…” She could hardly speak, her voice a breathless gasp. “I want… I need more. Touches like-”
She broke off, stunned she’d admitted such a thing. Hot color stung her face and she was sure she must be glowing like a balefire.
If so, he didn’t seem to mind.
“Och, I’ll touch you, lass.” He grinned, the look in his eyes bolder, hotter than ever.
“I’ll ne’er tire of touching you.” He stepped back then, seizing her bunched gown. With a flick of his wrist, he whipped it down over her hips so that her skirts pooled around her ankles. Slanting his mouth over hers, he claimed her lips even as he thrust his hand deep between her thighs, cupping her possessively.
He kissed her hard and fast as he stroked her, using his knee to nudge her legs apart, giving him greater access. “You are sweet, my lady,” he breathed the words against her cheek. Then he nipped her ear before he bought his mouth back down on hers, kissing her even more deeply now. “But you have not yet felt the bliss I wish to give you.”
“Indeed?” She swayed as he teased her with his tongue, each tantalizing swirl of his tongue over and around hers giving her more pleasure than she could bear.
Her body trembled. Heated darts of incredible intensity tingled over her deepest places, making her rock her hips against him.
“You err.” She pressed closer, not caring if she behaved wantonly. She needed to intensify the sensations. Any moment, she’d shatter from the wonder of what his hand was doing to her, the maddening thrill of his kiss. “There can be no greater pleasure than this.”
“Say you?” He spoke against her cheek, letting her feel his grin as he formed the words.
Then he circled his thumb over what felt like the center of all pleasure. The world caught fire and she gasped, her eyes snapping wide, her knees almost buckling beneath her.
“Tell me again that I err.” He circled that place again, rubbing deliberately.
Isobel was going to die.
The world no longer just burned. It disappeared, leaving only the rushing wind and the roar of the falls. The heady scent of cold, damp stone flooded her senses, intoxicating. And, most glorious of all, Kendrew’s hand stroking her so wickedly, his thumb circling round and round…
“Just breathe, lass. I have you.” His arm tightened around her, lifting her against him so that her feet left the stony ground. “Better yet...” His voice came as if from a distance. Deep, familiar, and oh-so-rousing, but blurred as if he spoke through a haze.
“Better yet,” he repeated, “let me breathe with you.”
Isobel did as he asked, parting her lips and then nearly dying of pleasure indeed when he brought his own mouth down hungrily on hers.
“Breath with me, sweeting.” He slid his tongue between her lips, letting it glide and tangle with hers as they shared breath. The intimacy was almost too starling to bear. “Let me drink of you, and” – his thumb still rubbed her, circling purposely – “bring you bliss as you’ve never known. Just breathe and feel, drift away…”
“I’m falling, I am…” Isobel tensed in his arms as she split apart. Great waves of pleasure rolled through her, washing over her entire body.
Somewhere in the madness, she saw Kendrew watching her. His smile was dark, his gaze locked on hers. His eyes flashed with triumph and he said something she couldn’t hear because of the thunder of the falls.
Or perhaps it was the roar of her own blood in her ears.
She didn’t know.
But she did notice that he was carrying her. He’d lifted her into his arms and was striding along the narrow ledge, making for a spill of large, tumbled boulders at the overhang’s far end. The rocks looked smooth and were lichened, some covered with a thick carpet of moss.
“Here, precious” – he set her down beside them, gesturing to the largest boulder, covered with deep green moss – “a bed of emeralds, for you.”
Isobel touched a hand to her breast, happiness suffusing her because she knew what he meant.
“There is no finer bed in the land.” Her heart swelled when her words made him smile. “You could not have chosen better.”
“Now you err, my lady.” He shook his head, his gaze not leaving her as threw off his plaid and then lifted his heavily-muscled arms, pulling his mail shirt over his head as if it weighed nothing.
He flashed a glance at the boulder, the deep green of its mossy cushion.
“I would ne’er have noticed these emeralds had you not opened my eyes.” He�
�d left his ax strapped to his saddle, but now he unbuckled his sword belt, letting the wide leather belt and his short, stabbing blade drop to the rock-strewn ground. Still watching her, he bent to tug off his boots and then he made short work of the rest of his clothes until he stood before her as naked as she was.
And oh, but he was magnificent.
Late afternoon sun slanted across his broad, powerful chest and the shimmering spray from the falls sent rainbows of color across the swirling blue kill-marks on his arms and chest. He truly did look like a wild, pagan deity from the mead halls of his beloved Valhalla.
Isobel sat on the moss-grown rock, sure her legs wouldn’t support her if she kept trying to stand.
Seeing him naked was almost too much.
It was a joy she’d never tire of.
So she let her gaze flicker over him, loving how his gleaming auburn hair whipped about his strong, wide-set shoulders. It also excited her to see the tantalizing wedge of dark gold hair that glinted on his chest and then arrowed down across his abdomen, joining a vertical scar there before thickening around his manhood.
His proud, rampant manhood that proved beyond doubt how much he wanted her.
“Oh, my.” Isobel’s eyes rounded.
Kendrew set his hands on his hips and grinned. “Mackintosh men are well blessed, what?”
“Yes!” Isobel blurted the truth, smiling.
His audacity was just one of the things she loved so much about him. She would never have lost her heart to a man of soft words and gentle manners.
But she couldn’t resist teasing him. “They have over-large opinions of themselves as well.”
“And rightly so.” He didn’t turn a hair. But he did step closer and lean down to brush a quick kiss across her lips. Before he straightened, he nuzzled her neck, growling something she didn’t catch against her hair.
It’d sounded like I love you.
Then he was lowering her back onto the mossy boulder and urging her to wrap her legs about him as he climbed over her, settling himself between her thighs.
“Kendrew…” She twined her arms around his neck, clutching his hair and pulling him down to her for more kisses. “I have dreamed of this-”
Temptation of a Highland Scoundrel: Highland Warriors Book 2 Page 26
