by Eliza Knight
“Forever, my love.”
She moved beneath him again, wanting to be closer. The hem of her chemise rose, exposing the skin of her legs all the way up to mid-thigh. His face twisted with desire. Before she had a chance to shift again, he gripped her bare calf at his hip and held her still.
“No more, or this will be over before it's truly begun.” His lips captured hers for a demanding, possessive kiss.
Her breath caught in her throat as she hungrily kissed him back, arms winding around his shoulders. She wanted to rip off her chemise, remove his kilt and shirt. Her nipples were taut, and she arched her back, pressing her chest against his, aching for more. When his hand slid up her ribs to caress her breasts, she realized that had been what she craved. His thumb stroked over the puckered tip, and a moan escaped her.
Everything felt right, perfect.
With his arms curled around her, she was flush to his chest. His lips traced hers gently before deepening the kiss. Every inch of her awakened to some slice of heaven they created together. Shivers of desire raced through her limbs, culminating between her thighs, begging for more of his touch.
She lifted her hips again, and he groaned low in his throat.
“Lass…” His eyes were hooded, clouded with passion.
She traced a finger along his lips until he opened his mouth and nibbled the tip before sucking the digit inside. The inside of his mouth was decadent sin against her skin, and she whimpered at the wicked sensation.
He trailed kisses from her neck to the tops of her breasts, hovering there as he met her gaze.
“Can I take this off?” he asked, plucking at the fabric of her chemise.
Bronwen nodded, and he slid the thin muslin from her body and tossed it to the floor. She lay there, bare except for her garters and stockings, but she wasn’t nervous—quite the opposite. Euan’s hungry gaze devoured her, and he bit his lip in a way that suggested he was having a hard time holding himself back from consuming her completely. That look, and the thoughts it brought, heightened her arousal. Her nipples peaked, aching to feel the velvet of his tongue, and between her thighs, a delicious little pulse started.
She didn’t have to wait long as he swooped down and took a pink bud between his lips.
“Oh,” she sighed, arching her back and threading her fingers in his hair.
He kneaded her other breast, his thumb teasing the nipple, and then leisurely, he skimmed his hand along her rib cage, over her hip, to her thighs. Her legs started to tremble, and the place between her thighs quickened all the more. She bowed into him, urging his exploration forward, wanting something she didn’t understand.
Euan let out a low chuckle. “Miss Holmes is an impatient lass.”
She gazed at him, where his chin rested on her belly, his blue eyes dancing with humor and desire. “The captain is of a mind to torment me.”
Then she grinned. “Ye’ve seen me. Let me see ye.”
Euan sucked in a deep breath and then pushed off the bed. Bronwen’s cheeks grew warm, and her breaths came a little quicker as he shed his kilt, shirt, hose and shoes with deliberate intent. His chest was broad, a sprinkle of golden hair dusted the muscular expanse. Ripples of corded sinew led down his abdomen to his rigid arousal, jutting forward and setting off something primal inside her.
His physique was perfectly sculpted, as the marble statues had been in the museum she’d snuck into. “Ye could have been carved from marble.”
“But thank God I’m flesh and bone.” Euan glided the length of his naked body along hers, the tip of his erection pressing between her thighs.
A shot of exquisite pleasure pulsated her insides, and she squirmed, wanting to feel more of him against her. My God… Euan captured her lips with his as his hand danced a breathtaking trail to the crux of her thighs. He caressed the little bud of her pleasure until she writhed and then slipped his fingers between her folds and sank deep inside her. Nothing before had felt so wonderful, intoxicating. Bronwen arched her back, moaning as waves of pleasure wrapped their way around her. He continued his ministrations of torment. Stroking, plunging until she felt she was on the very tip of something massive, and that if she just reached it…
“Does it feel good, love?” he asked.
A barely audible “Aye” was all she could manage.
He nuzzled her breasts, teasing her nipples as his fingers drove her nether parts wild and this time—thank heavens—he didn’t stop. An explosion of the most ethereal sensations cascaded through her, making her heart skip a beat. She cried out in surprise pleasure. But it didn’t end there; it pulsed and pulsed in an undulating wave, rippling through her body.
“Oh, God, Bronwen. I have to have ye now.”
She nodded, unable to speak, but knowing whatever it was that he wanted, she wanted it too.
Euan spread her legs wide and settled between her thighs. His thick arousal slid between her folds. He came down on her, his chest pressed to hers, his mouth demanding a heated kiss. And as she acquiesced, he gripped her buttocks with one hand and his shaft with the other, and then he plunged inside. He stilled for a moment when a muffled cry escaped her. But the pain didn’t last long, and as he kissed her and shifted his hand between their bodies to stroke that fiery nub again, it disappeared completely, leaving her only with the desire for more pleasure. She tilted her pelvis to allow him to sink in more fully.
“Are ye all right?” he asked. “Does it hurt?”
“Nay…” she sighed. “It feels so good.”
“Och, good, lass, verra good.”
He grasped her hands in his and placed them above her head as he moved slowly in and out. Bronwen wrapped her legs higher around his hips. His pace, sensual and calculated at first, quickened until he drove into her with a vigorous pace she easily matched. She lifted her hips for each plunge, taking him in deeper, fuller. With her arms wrapped around him, she clung to his strong body. Warmth gathered in her center, pulsing. Her entire body was on fire until once again, a release shook her with the force of an earthquake.
“Euan!” she cried out.
“Oh, God, Bronwen!” he responded as he plunged faster, harder until his body shuddered above her.
They remained entwined as he slowed to a stop. He rested his forehead against hers, their eyes connecting.
A smile of pleasure and contentment curved her lips. “That was amazing.”
“Ye are amazing.” He kissed her lips gently. “I’ve never been happier that ye stormed my castle.”
She laughed as he pulled her in for a hug and rolled them both to the side. Bronwen curled up next to him, loving the feel of his strong arms around her, the way their bodies seemed made to fit together.
“And I’m glad ye felt incompetent enough to need a governess, though I must say, ye did no’ seem to need one.”
His hand stroked lazily at her hip. “I did no’ need any governess, lass. I needed ye.”
Bronwen grinned, blew out the candle, and sighed with happiness into the darkness, snuggled beside the man she loved. And in that blissful moment in time, it felt as if nothing could ever go wrong.
15
The house was quiet. Bronwen had gotten used to being the first to wake but was sometimes surprised by Euan while eating breakfast. Either he slept late, or he was out before dawn to work with his crofters. Rare was it they were able to meet by chance.
This morning, however, when she’d climbed from the bed, she knew exactly where he was. And she’d smiled into the dim dawn light at his sleeping form, which lay sprawled on her bed, the sheet over only the middle of his body. His arms wide; his legs too. The man slept as though he owned all the space on the bed, and she’d been perfectly content to roll up into his arms and stay there. But alas, a lifetime of waking early wasn’t about to change, even if she’d been up half the night, for they’d made love three glorious times.
Bronwen had been reluctant to leave the cocoon of their warmth. But she was also worried that her maid would come in search of
her to help her get ready and find her lying there beside the naked captain. If she was already up and about, then hopefully the maid wouldn’t enter just yet. It was one thing to make love with him, quite another to be caught doing it, even if she had agreed to be his forever.
So, she’d hurried to get herself ready and had escaped her room before anyone deigned to knock on the door. Servants tiptoed about to get their work done but not wake anyone in the process. The dining room was empty, save for the bacon and eggs and toast which smelled heavenly.
Bronwen took in a deep breath and smiled. She was starving. Having been in the household nearly a month now, she’d gotten used to eating her fill without being sick, and this morning, she planned to fill her plate.
Even in this Edinburgh townhouse, Cook had been instructed to make every type of egg imaginable. And today, Bronwen chose to have what the footman called pie in a pan, which looked a lot like a combination of quiche and omelet. Eggs had been whipped together with asparagus and goat cheese, then fried in a pan and sliced into like a pie. Along with that, she took a scoop of mushrooms, two slices of bacon and two pieces of toast. Thank goodness no one was there to watch her gorge herself on what had quickly become her favorite meal of the day.
With her plate in hand, she sat at the table and poured herself a cup of tea.
A moment later, the heavy clomp of boots sounded. Oh, lucky morning. Euan had decided to wake and join her! She glanced up to smile at him, to tease him for sleeping later than her, only to find it wasn’t Euan entering the breakfast room but a total stranger.
The smile fell from her face.
The man standing in the entryway had similar features to Euan. The same color hair and eyes, but the grin on his face was not kind, nor was it pleasant. While Euan had a charming, devilishly handsome look about him, this man was more devil—not in the same way that sent faintish hearts skittering, but instead made her want to leave the room.
“I did no’ realize I’d have company,” he drawled, taking a few steps forward, toying with the button of his frockcoat.
Neither had she, and his intrusion felt most unwelcome. Bronwen wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin, and with her most imperial voice, said, “And ye are, sir?”
There was an almost imperceptible rise of his brows as though he’d expected her to react differently. “I’m surprised ye’ve no’ heard of me.” He gave a mocking pout. “I’m the cousin.”
The cousin. As if that was some sort of identifier. “I’ve several cousins myself, so I hardly think it prudent for ye to name yourself ‘the cousin,’ sir. I still know no’ who ye are.”
The stranger laughed, a grating sound that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. He flashed her a sharp gaze before turning back to the eggs. She decided she didn’t need to know who he was, and setting down her napkin, prepared to rise until she heard his next words and sank back into her chair with a chill.
“Interesting. Well, given I know who ye are, Bronwen Holmes, it seems only fair that I should share my identity with ye. I’m Hector Irvine, and I am cousin to Euan and his brood of sisters. Heir to the baronies of Drum and Bonshaw.”
With years of practice at hiding her emotions and reaction, Bronwen was able to do so now when she wanted to gape. Why hadn’t any of them ever mentioned Hector or the fact that he was staying at the house? Or that he was also an heir to the very same barony as Euan? She recalled he’d mentioned at one point it was still being decided. Was that because this man was contesting it?
Bronwen found the entire situation to be odd. The family had been so open with her about everything else. Why keep this one thing a secret? Besides that, she couldn’t help but wonder what the man was doing here. No one had mentioned they had a visitor, let alone that it was him.
She felt extremely uneasy. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end in the same way it always did when she was in danger. But this man couldn’t possibly pose a threat to her safety, could he? Aye, he knew her name, but perhaps that was because one of the family members or servants had shared it. It wasn’t as if her identity within the house was top secret. If it were, then she wouldn’t have gone to the ball.
So why did she feel so strange?
When she said nothing, he looked at her over his shoulder. “Ah, so my name does no’ ring a bell,” he said, a smile curling his lips that made her feel unsafe.
“I’m afraid no’, sir.” She kept her voice as neutral as possible.
He heaped his plate with just about everything while Bronwen suppressed a shudder. There was something so sinister in the line of his shoulders. She couldn’t quite decipher what about him made her skin crawl—besides the entire package. She watched him move slowly toward the table, eyes on her, daring her to move. When he sat down opposite her at the table, she lost her appetite. How could she eat with the way he was looking at her, as though he’d make a meal of her?
“Well, I suppose I can make sense of ye no’ knowing.” He shrugged and scooped some of the scrambled eggs, shoveling them into his mouth, chewing around a smile as he watched her. “Are ye no’ going to eat? Your eggs will get cold.”
Dutifully, Bronwen forked a bite of egg and shoved it into her mouth, which had gone dry. He smiled as if to say, “That’s a good lass,” and she wished she could spit it out.
The man mused to himself, eyebrows wiggling as he smeared butter on his toast, “My dear cousins would no’ want to spoil all the fun and tell ye their big secret.”
Secret.
Bronwen swallowed, the food she’d eaten thus far forming what felt like a lead ball in her belly. A sip of tea did not help. Not only was she now contending with this creepy stranger, but her mind was whirling about his mention of a secret. She’d told Euan so much about herself. And after last night… Euan had confessed his love to her and she to him. He’d asked her to marry him, and she’d agreed—albeit it had taken a commotion in the alleyway with the brutes who were after her, but still. They’d agreed to wed. They’d made love all night. She’d curled up in his arms and fell comfortably asleep. He’d told her she could trust him, confide in him. Yet, he’d not afforded her the same deference.
Not if there was a secret.
This man held it and was here in this house. Had he been here last night? Longer? Was he somehow the secret they were keeping hidden? Bronwen couldn’t understand why they would hide him and what he meant to them. Did he know what happened between her and Euan? There were so many questions, and no one here to answer them. Bronwen flicked her gaze toward the door, willing Euan or one of his sisters to come in. But alas, the entrance remained empty.
And she most definitely wasn’t going to ask this man. From what she gathered of him, he’d take pleasure in revealing whatever it was they’d kept hidden. The way he stared her down, he was practically willing her to ask.
When she remained silent, he put down his fork and leaned back in his chair. He gazed about the room, assessing.
“Well, ’tis too bad they’ll lose all this.” Hector spread his arms wide, indicating the room and perhaps even everything that Euan and his sisters held dear.
Despite the turmoil in her stomach, Bronwen attempted another bite of food, if only to appear that she wasn’t truly concerned about what he was saying. “Lose all of it?” The food was tasteless and rubbery in her mouth.
“Aye.” Hector lifted his teacup and stared at her over the rim, searching her face for any hint she might know what he was saying. “There’s a race to the finish between him and me.”
“A race?” She shook her head with a little laugh, dipping her fork into the eggs. “I’m afraid ye’re speaking in riddles, sir, and I was at a ball until quite late into the evening.”
“I am shocked, I tell ye.” Hector slapped the table, and though she tried hard not to react, she was certain he caught her wince. “I thought ye were part of the scheme. The way the two of ye looked at each other, I would have thought ye were in love. Or at least pretending it. I confess
I thought it was the latter. Euan’s no’ really the one-woman type, which is what was going to make this so much fun.” He laughed and scooped up a massive bite of eggs and shoved them in his mouth.
But then she realized what he’d said, and her blood chilled in her veins. The way they’d looked at each other…When had he seen them? The man had been spying, watching. A cold knot of fear thudded in her belly as she imagined him slinking around the gardens at the ball or outside the corridor to her bedroom. Worse still, sitting in the wardrobe and peeking through the crack.
He pointed his fork at her. “Ye have to be in on the ruse. Ye’re lying. I must say it’s been well done. I was worried for a minute, but now, ye’ve shown me I have nothing to be concerned about.”
She didn’t like the accusation about whatever it was he thought she was part of. This ruse he kept talking about. She was more caught up in the fact that he’d been watching her, and she felt extremely violated by that.
Irritation swept through Bronwen, and that ire was overshadowing any confusion she might have had before. The facts about the secret and what had been kept from her paled in comparison to what he was saying to her now. This man was talking in circles, and she had no idea what in the blazes he meant. “Sir, I still do no’ know what ye’re talking about, and I’ll ask ye to be clear. Are ye saying ye’ve been spying on me?” Her voice came out a bit tarter than she had intended, but she didn’t feel guilty about it in the slightest.
“So forthright.” He grinned, pieces of egg stuck between his teeth. “I like that. And so I’ll tell ye exactly what ye want to know.” He slurped at his tea and then said, “There’s been a race between Euan and me to see who can catch a bride first, make her fall in love with us, and then have our bairns. Whoever wins gets all this.” He held up his hands, indicating the room, and on a grander scale, everything that Euan held dear. “And more. Drum Castle is on the table, as well as Bonshaw Tower.”
The last few words sounded as though they were coming at her through a bubble as blood rushed through her skull. So this was the secret. And why he must have thought she was in on it. Pretending to be in love with Euan. My God, she was a fool.
