The Viper

by Monica McCarty

  She sighed with pleasure at the first contact, at the sensation of his soft lips pressing against hers. Warmth and the faint tinge of spice infused her, flooding her senses with the heady taste of him.

  He kissed her tenderly, dragging his lips over hers in a gentle caress. She sank into him, unconsciously seeking more.

  Show me how much you care for me. She wanted throes of passion. She wanted heartfelt declarations of love. She wanted it all.

  He made a pained sound, and for a moment she wondered if she’d hurt his ribs. But then his arms tightened around her. His mouth hardened, pressing against her more fully. The taste of spice grew deeper, more arousing. She could feel the tension in his muscles, feel the power surging through him, and her body melted in anticipation, when suddenly he stiffened and pulled away with a harsh curse.

  He released her so suddenly, she had to catch herself from stumbling. Her legs seemed to be missing the bones.

  Her eyes widened, shocked and not a little disappointed. Had she done something wrong?

  He dragged his fingers through silky-straight, sandy-brown hair. “Marry me.”

  She gaped at him in astonishment. “W-what?”

  His gaze locked on hers. “I want you to be my wife.”

  The spontaneity of the proposal was so unlike him, at first she thought he must be jesting. But one look at his face told her differently. “You’re serious?”

  “Aye.”

  “But why?”

  He frowned. It was obviously not the response he’d hoped for. “I would think that would be obvious. I care for you.”

  Not “I love you.” Not “I can’t live without you.” Not “I want to ravish you senseless.”

  There was a tiny pinch in the vicinity of her heart. Helen told herself she was being ridiculous. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? He’d told her how he felt—even if it wasn’t exactly with the flourish she’d hoped for.

  He was so confoundingly controlled. Not cold and unfeeling, but calm and even-tempered. Steady. A rock not a volcano. But sometimes she’d wish he’d explode.

  When she didn’t respond right away, he added, “Surely this can’t come as a surprise to you?”

  Actually it did. She bit her lip. “We never talked about the future.” Perhaps because they’d both been trying to ignore the realities.

  Marriage. It was the only option for a woman in her position. Then why did the very idea strike fear in her heart?

  But this was Magnus. He understood her. She loved him. Of course she wanted to marry him.

  But what he was asking was impossible. “Our families will never allow it.”

  He didn’t bother arguing with her. “I’m not asking our families. Run away with me.”

  She sucked in her breath. A clandestine marriage? The notion was shocking. But also, she admitted, oddly appealing—and undeniably romantic. Where would they go? Perhaps the continent? How exciting it would be to travel across the countryside with only each other to please. “Where would we go?”

  He looked at her strangely. “Strathnavar. My father will be angry at first, of course, but my mother will understand. He’ll come around eventually.”

  Northern Scotland, not the continent. The MacKay lands were in Caithness, which bordered Sutherland.

  “And where would we live?” she asked carefully.

  “At Castle Varrich with my family. When I am chief, the castle will be yours.”

  Of course. Silly lass. How could she have thought differently? His mother was the perfect lady of the castle. Naturally, he would expect as much from her. Her breath squeezed.

  “Why now? Why can’t we wait and see—”

  “I’m tired of waiting. Nothing will change.” His jaw hardened, an unfamiliar glint of steel in his eye. He was growing impatient with her. For a moment she thought he might lose his temper. But Magnus never lost his temper. Sometimes she even wondered whether he had one. “I’m tired of sneaking around, not being able to speak or even look at you in public. You are eighteen now, Helen. How much longer before your father finds you a husband?”

  She blanched, knowing he was right. She’d escaped a betrothal this long only because her father was ill and needed her.

  Her heart stopped. Oh God, who would take care of her father? She looked at him helplessly, the enormity of the decision making her hesitate. She loved him, but she loved her family, too. How could she choose between them?

  He must have read her indecision. “Don’t you see, this is the only way it can be. What we have …” His voice dropped off. “What we have is special. Don’t you want to be with me?”

  “Of course, I do. But I need some time—”

  “There isn’t time,” he said harshly. But he wasn’t looking at her. A moment later, she knew why.

  “Get the hell away from her!”

  Her heart dropped. Helen turned around to see her brother flying toward them.

  Magnus saw the blood drain from Helen’s face and wished he could spare her from this moment. But it had been inevitable. They’d been fortunate to escape discovery for so long.

  Although, if they were going to be discovered by anyone in her family, he would rather it be her eldest brother William, the heir to the earldom. He at least wasn’t a complete arse. If there was anyone he disliked more than Donald Munro, it was Kenneth Sutherland. He had all the arrogance and all the snide mockery of Munro, with a hot temper to boot.

  Instinctively, Magnus moved around to block Helen. He knew she was close to her brother, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Sutherland was unpredictable at best, rash at worst.

  Magnus caught the other man’s fist before it could slam into his jaw and pushed him back. “This isn’t any of your business, Sutherland.”

  Her brother would have come at him again, but Helen stepped between them. Next to her oaf of a brother she looked as diminutive as a child. Her auburn head barely reached the middle of his chest. But she wasn’t a child. For two long years Magnus had been waiting for her to turn eighteen. He wanted her so badly he couldn’t breathe. This impish, fey creature, with her big blue eyes, freckled nose, and wild mane of glorious deep red hair. Hers was not a conventional beauty, but to him, there was no one more breathtaking.

  “Please, Kenneth, it’s not what you think.”

  Sutherland’s eyes sparked with anger. “It’s exactly what I think. I knew there was something wrong at the competition, but I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to think you could be so disloyal.”

  Helen flinched, and Magnus swore. “Damn it, leave her the hell out of this. If you want to take your anger out on someone, take it out on me.”

  The other man’s eyes narrowed. “With pleasure.” He reached for his sword. “I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

  “A bold claim for someone who has never bested me in anything.”

  Sutherland snarled with fury.

  Helen cried out and launched herself at him. “No, please,” tears were sliding down her cheeks, “don’t do this, I l-love him.”

  Magnus had been reaching for his own sword, but her words stopped him. His heart slammed in his chest. She loved him. She’d never said so before, and after their recent conversation he hadn’t been so sure. Warmth settled over him. He’d been right. They were meant to be together. She felt it, too.

  With more gentleness than Magnus would have thought him capable of, her arse of a brother said, “Ah, Helen.” He stroked her cheek fondly. “You don’t know what you are saying. Of course, you think you’re in love with him. You’re eighteen. That’s what young girls do, they fall in love.”

  She shook her head fervently. “It’s not like that.”

  “It’s exactly like that,” he said. “You love to love. Every day is like May Day to you. But how well can you know him?” Suddenly, his expression narrowed. “How long have you been meeting like this?”

  She flushed, looking down at her feet. Magnus felt his anger rise, seeing her guilt.

  “We met at th
e Games at Dunottar,” Magnus interjected. “By accident.”

  Kenneth spun on her. “Four years ago?”

  He swore when Helen nodded.

  “By God, if he’s disgraced you, I’ll string him up by his bollocks and see him gelded—”

  “He’s done nothing,” Helen interrupted. “He’s treated me with perfect courtesy.”

  Magnus frowned, hearing something odd in her voice. It almost sounded like disappointment. “Have care what you say, Sutherland. You have a right to your anger, but I will not allow you to impinge your sister’s honor or mine.”

  It might have taken every last shred of his control, but Magnus hadn’t done more than kiss her. He wouldn’t dishonor her like that. He’d wait until they were married, and then he’d dishonor her plenty. The sweet taste of her lips on his still haunted him. But it had been as much care for her innocence as lack of confidence in his own control that had caused him to pull away.

  Sutherland’s face darkened, as if he knew exactly what he was thinking. “It’ll be a cold day in Hades before you get the chance.” He shot Magnus a look that promised retribution and took his sister’s arm. “Come, Helen, we’re leaving.”

  Helen shook her head and tried to pull away. “No, I—”

  She looked to Magnus helplessly. His mouth tightened. She only had to say the word, and he’d claim her right now. He’d defeated the Sutherland champion—her brother would not stand in his way.

  Sutherland grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “What were you thinking, lass? Your eyes are so filled with sunshine, you think it shines as brightly for everyone else. But you aren’t going to be able to make this have a happy ending. Not this time. Surely you didn’t think anything could come of this?”

  Magnus had had enough. “I asked her to be my wife.”

  Sutherland’s face turned so red with anger, he appeared to choke. “God’s blood, you must be mad! I’d sooner see her married to old longshanks himself than to a MacKay.”

  Magnus’s hand closed around the hilt of his sword. “It’s not you I’ve asked.”

  Both men’s eyes fell on Helen, whose pale face was ravaged by tears that looked so wrong on her face. Helen never cried, that she was told of her deep distress. She looked back and forth between them.

  Magnus clenched his jaw, knowing how hard this was on her. He knew what he asked of her. But she had to decide. It was always going to come down to this.

  Sutherland did not show such restraint. “If you marry him, it will start a war.”

  “It doesn’t have to,” Magnus said.

  Sutherland acted as if he hadn’t spoken. “You would turn your back on your family? On Father? He needs you.”

  Her tear-stained eyes grew enormous in her pale face. She looked at Magnus pleadingly and he knew. His chest started to burn.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t …”

  Their eyes met. He didn’t want to believe it. But the truth was there in stark, vivid blue.

  Jesus. His gut twisted. He couldn’t believe … He’d thought …

  He stiffened and turned brusquely away, holding himself perfectly still so he wouldn’t do something to shame himself like beg. The worst part was how badly he wanted to. But he had his pride, damn it. It was bad enough that Sutherland was here to witness his rejection.

  Sutherland folded Helen into his arms. “Of course you can’t, sister. MacKay couldn’t have expected you to agree to this. Only a romantic fool would have thought you’d agree to run away with him.”

  Magnus could hear him laughing at him. He clenched his fists, wanting to smash the taunting smile off the bastard’s face.

  Had he really expected her to run away with him?

  Aye, fool that he was, he had. Helen was different. Helen wasn’t bound by convention. If she’d loved him enough, nothing would have stopped her.

  He would have given up everything for her, if she’d only asked.

  But she never did. The next morning he watched the Sutherland tents coming down. They were leaving. Her brothers weren’t going to give her any chance to change her mind.

  Robert Bruce, the Earl of Carrick, approached him with Neil Campbell just as Helen exited the castle. Her face was hidden in the hood of her dark cloak, but he would know her anywhere.

  Magnus barely listened to their proposition. Barely heard the details of a secret group of warriors being formed by Bruce to help defeat the English. He was too caught up in Helen. Too busy watching her leave him.

  Turn back. But she never did. She rode out of the gate, disappearing into the morning mist, and never once looked back. He watched until the last Sutherland banner had disappeared from view.

  Bruce was still talking.

  He wanted Magnus for his secret army. It was all he needed to hear. “I’ll do it.”

  He’d do anything to get away from here.

  To Jami who has been eager for Lachlan’s story from day one. Squirrel? Thank you for … everything.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The Viper is a milestone for me, as it marks the publication of my tenth novel—all ten published with Ballantine in a little over four years. I truly appreciate the opportunity, support, and hard work undertaken by everyone at Ballantine to enable that to happen, including, to name a few: Gina Centrello, Scott Shannon, Libby McGuire, Gina Wachtel, Kim Hovey, Linda Marrow, Penelope Haynes, Junessa Viloria, and all of the fabulous copy editors and production assistants. Also Lynn Andreozzi and the Art Department for the stunning covers (where do you find all these guys and can you pass on the number?—only kidding Dave … really) and the Sales Department for making sure readers can find my books in their favorite stores.

  A special thanks to Kate Collins, my editor for the last seven books. You make work not feel like work. Whether it’s discussing a book, kids, or the Red Sox, I always look forward to our phone calls. Thanks for making my stories better.

  I’m fortunate to have not one, but two fantastic agents, Andrea Cirillo and Annelise Robey, to help me navigate the business side of writing, as well as be that extra pair of eyes when called upon. You guys are the best.

  As always to the Wednesday lunch gang, Emily Cotler, Estella Tse, and the wonderful designers at Wax Creative.

  And finally, to my (almost always) supportive family. Dave, Reid, and Maxine I’m looking at you. Okay, I’m done. Now leave me alone, I need to write. Kidding. Really.

  BY MONICA MCCARTY

  The Viper

  The Chief

  The Hawk

  The Ranger

  Highland Warrior

  Highland Outlaw

  Highland Scoundrel

  Highlander Untamed

  Highlander Unmasked

  Highlander Unchained