Highland Hellcat

by Mary Wine

She wanted to attack the man. Run after him and strike at his body until he surrendered to her.

  Brina felt her cheeks turn scarlet, for the truth was clearly etched into her mind. He’d turn and face her. All her temper would transform into passion, and nothing she had ever promised her father would matter once Connor kissed her.

  She’d kiss him back too…

  It was shameful, but too exciting to ignore.

  ***

  “Now, Connor, my friend, I have to admit that I’m surprised to see ye stealing a girl promised to the church. That is going to cause a stir for certain.”

  Connor shot his unexpected guest a hard look. “The church can make do with her sister since Melor Douglas has shown his true colors and refused to wed the lass.”

  Quinton narrowed his eyes. “Ye sound almost sorry for her.”

  “And why no’?” Connor sat down next to his fellow laird. “I never wished her any ill fate. She’d be here if she hadna made the choice to take a lover in spite of our contract.”

  “Ye’re no virgin yerself, Connor.”

  “And ye are playing both sides of the coin, Quinton Cameron.”

  Quinton shrugged and sat back in his chair. “I do nae consider virginity so great a thing that a lass should be thought soiled because she had a single affair. Deirdre Chattan has passion in her. The right man could keep her attention.”

  Connor pointed toward himself. “I cannae be that man.”

  “Ye mean that ye choose no’ to be.”

  Connor flattened his hand on the tabletop. “Ye are forgetting my sister in yer reasoning, Cameron, and that is something that I find distinctly unfriendly. My bride must be pure to protect my position and make it harder for the Douglas to keep Vanora. I need my alliance with the Chattan secure so that I can challenge the lieutenant general for my sister. The man is a Douglas; he’s likely to want to side with his clan over me if I do nae show up in a position that will worry him enough to consider my case.”

  “Well… ye have a fine point there, but the lieutenant general is no’ likely to restore yer sister to you. The man has all the power of a king, since he’s got the young lad under his control.”

  “Which is exactly why I stole Brina. I need the Chattans standing behind me and the Camerons when I ask for Vanora to be returned or disinherited.”

  Quinton snorted. “The disinherited part will get the lieutenant general’s attention for sure.”

  Connor frowned. “I hate having to say such a thing, but the Douglas will no’ want her if there is nothing coming with her, and she’s twelve now, so my time is running out.”

  “Aye,” Quinton agreed. “They’ll have her married in another year and bedded by the time she’s fourteen. Those greedy bastards do nae care very much if the lass is too young for childbearing.

  “So ye’ll stand behind me?”

  Quinton chuckled. “I’ve already given my word on that, Connor, and I do nae need ye questioning it.”

  “I’m asking about ye witnessing my vows with Brina.”

  His guest became silent, and Connor felt his temper begin to rise. “Then explain why ye are here, Quinton, if it is no’ to lend yer name to my union with the Chattans.”

  Quinton drew in a deep breath. “Ye’re right to be suspicious, even if I have no liking for it.”

  Connor snorted, but his friend held up a hand to keep him quiet.

  “Robert Chattan was set to march on ye, but I told him I’d come in his place, because the Highlanders need to remain united, or we’ll see our country being invaded by the bloody English for sure with a lad on the throne.”

  “Well, that’s a solid truth.”

  Quinton nodded. “Aye, so I came up here to listen to yer reasons for stealing the man’s daughter, because I call both of ye my friends.”

  “And?” Connor didn’t care for the way Quinton was hiding behind an expression Connor knew concealed what his friend was truly thinking.

  “And I think ye made the best choice, considering the circumstances. I’ll witness yer vows…” His face split with a smirk. “Providing ye can get a lass who was raised to serve the church to the altar. Personally I’m thinking that ye would have had an easier road with Deirdre.”

  “I know the way to convincing Brina.”

  Quinton Cameron laughed, his voice low and full of amusement taken at Connor’s expense.

  “I heard that well enough, my friend, but I still say ye’re likely to get little sleep tonight while ye attempt to bring that lass to heel.”

  Connor suddenly grinned back at the man trying to tease him.

  “But that’s the part that I’m looking forward to, Quinton, and I do nae care if ye take offense, because she’s worth it, believe me.”

  His friend leaned back in his chair. “In that case, my friend, ye’d better hope I can smooth things over with her father so that ye can gain his blessing, for that lass wants it, and I believe that she will nae be content until she has it.”

  “Aye… but as I said, Quinton, she’s worth every bit of frustration she puts me through, and demanding her father’s blessing on our match is yet another reason why I will nae relinquish her to any man. Brina belongs to me.”

  ***

  Quinton Cameron sat drinking alone. His fellow laird had left him at the high table, and he couldn’t truly take offense, because he agreed with Connor.

  Brina Chattan was a prize worth seeking out.

  He drew a sip of ale off the mug a maid set before him. The lass lingered over the chore, offering him a long peek down the front of her robe. Her breasts were plump, and her nipples large, but his cock wasn’t interested.

  There were matters on his mind that required his full attention, even if the sun was setting and the gates closed until dawn. Keeping the Highlanders united was a goal that sank into his thoughts and didn’t allow for anything else.

  Except for a brief recollection of Deirdre Chattan.

  His cock did stir, and it drew a frown from him. He didn’t have time to become enamored of any woman in particular. If he were wise, he’d find a way to get the Douglas to return Vanora to him and lock her in his own fortress until she was old enough to wed. Connor wasn’t the only Highlander laird who understood the need for an alliance with his neighbors.

  But Deirdre’s face refused to be banished, even when he lifted his mug again and drained it. Vanora Lindsey was merely an idea, but the taste of Deirdre’s kiss clung to his lips along with the way she had struggled against him. She was a woman who knew the power of her own spirit, one who might be broken but would be so much more of a prize to the man who managed to win her.

  Part of him was very interested in being that man.

  Seven

  Maura was quiet as she directed her staff toward helping Brina disrobe. Brina could sense the woman’s displeasure with her, but there was nothing to say, for it seemed that they were destined to be on opposite sides of the issue of the staff calling her mistress.

  She had that in common with many a stolen bride; that was for sure.

  “I had a tray fetched up from the kitchen since ye didn’t join the laird for supper.”

  “He had a guest and didna need a woman sitting by his side.”

  The truth was she had been sickened by the sight of the retainers set to guarding her. Brina looked around the chamber, recognizing that she had chosen to imprison herself instead of being watched.

  She wasn’t sure which she detested more.

  “Thank you for the tray, Maura. It was kind of ye to consider me.”

  “Ye’re the mistress…”

  The head of house’s words trailed off when Brina simply ignored her. It was by far one of the most impolite things she had ever done, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from walking toward the windows that were closed shut for the night. Her hair fluttered behind her, r
eleased from the plait that had held the strands throughout the day, and the veil that had covered her head to provide warmth and modesty was now neatly draped over a clothes rack.

  “Well, I’ll bid ye good night, mistress.”

  Brina smiled for a brief moment because Maura was a stubborn woman. Maybe even as hardheaded as she was being. The doors to the chamber closed, leaving her alone for the first time that day. She sighed and turned around to look at the chamber with all its lavishness. Candles were lit and casting their yellow light over the long table and twin chairs. The bed curtains were drawn closed on three sides, making the turned-down comforter and sheeting look inviting.

  But she discovered that she longed for the cold cell at the base of the cliff, with Connor there to wrap his warmth around her…

  She snorted and turned back toward the shutters. Reaching up, she loosened the bar that held them in place against the wind and weather. The moment she did, the sound of the ocean rushed in on a cold draft of night air that sent a shiver down her back.

  Brina laughed and pulled both sides of the shutters wide open so that the sound of the surf filled the chamber. Her nose turned cold instantly, but she was too enchanted by the sight of the ocean to worry about it. Moonlight cast the rippling waves in silver as far as she could see, while the moon itself was only a crescent on the horizon.

  “Ye’re mesmerizing, Brina Chattan.”

  She turned around and felt her thin underrobe flaring up to expose her ankles and calves, because the light fabric wasn’t held down by a thicker outerrobe. Her hair flowed around her as well, and Connor’s gaze was on it. His lips thinned, but in a sensual manner that captivated her.

  He liked what he saw, and it made her feel pretty.

  Connor stood near the door, his sword in one hand instead of tied to his broad back. He held one side of the doors open, and two maids carried in trays that they set on the long table. They began to set out the items they had carried, their attention purposely directed to the surface of the long table.

  “We do nae require service.”

  Both of them raised their attention to her, the younger maid failing to maintain her stiff composure. Her lips twitched up into a knowing smile that was accompanied by a twinkle in her eyes. Brina blushed, but this time the heat surfaced in her face because she knew full well what it was like to have Connor next to her.

  Inside her…

  Connor cleared his throat. Brina looked at him because the sound was so delicate. She realized that was for her benefit, a gallant gesture she would not have thought he had in him.

  Except that he had always tried to be gentle with her…

  The maids lowered themselves before hurrying out the door. Connor closed it with a single motion of one arm. Brina stared at him and the amount of strength that he had in his body. Truly she shouldn’t be surprised to discover him using such a soft sound to get the maids to leave, because the man had always controlled himself with her.

  Of course, that knowledge only drove home just how helpless she truly was against his greater strength and position. He was more than just a Highlander; he was a laird and a powerful one too. His friend Quinton Cameron was equally dangerous, and together, they might swear that she had taken marriage vows, and there would be few who would be interested in challenging them.

  “Now do nae look at me like that, Brina. Ye have little to be so unhappy about.”

  “I never said I was unhappy.”

  He walked across the floor and placed his sword next to the bed.

  “Ye only fight with me over a matter that should bring ye peace. Would ye rather that I keep ye here and deny ye the respectable position as my wife? Ye wouldna be the first daughter who suffered that fate because of the shame her family brought to another.”

  His words were harsh enough to make her wince. But what stunned her into silence was just how truthful they were. Much of Scotland’s history was written in vengeance. There would be many who considered Connor justified in taking her.

  Brina frowned when she looked at the sword a second time, and it gained her a grunt from Connor.

  “That’s correct, lass. I’m sharing that bed with ye.”

  There was a hard edge to his voice, an exasperated tone that drew her attention to him.

  She also noticed that he was without his doublet. Only the undyed fabric of his shirt covered his skin. Beneath her thin robe, her skin began to warm and awaken with hundreds of places that recalled how much she enjoyed his touch. The long, gliding strokes of his hands along her limbs before he had begun to touch her in more sensitive places.

  “I simply cannae wed ye without my father’s blessing. It is a matter of honor, Connor, no’ my wishes.”

  One of his eyebrows rose. “Is that so, Brina?” He reached down and pulled on the end of his belt until the twin steel tongues that held it closed popped free of their leather holes.

  “Does that mean that ye will lie with me tonight, willingly? Maybe even be eager for my touch?”

  She scoffed at him. “Ye do nae need to tease me, Connor Lindsey. Ye know full well that ye didna need to rape me last night.”

  His loosened belt allowed the neatly folded fabric of his kilt to sag. He caught it before it slithered down his legs to puddle on the floor. With a practiced hand, he looped it all over his forearm and turned to deposit it on a side table she realized had been left bare just for his plaid.

  “It is a very fond memory for me, Brina, one that I hope will nae be alone in my mind. So is the fact that ye told me that ye do nae lie, and I see it is so.”

  She was frustrated but satisfied in the same moment. The satisfaction grew because she enjoyed being praised for being truthful. Actually she simply enjoyed earning Connor’s respect, and there was no way to hide from that fact.

  His shirt hung down to his mid-thigh, but her imagination was quick to remind her what lay behind that single layer of simple fabric. He surprised her by sitting down.

  “Come and help me remove my boots, lass.”

  So that he could take her to his bed…

  She couldn’t help but think about it. Excitement was beginning to pulse through her, running along with her blood to every corner of her body. Connor watched her with an expression that was more playful than she could recall having seen on his face before.

  “Didna ye train to be of service, lass?”

  She propped her hands on her hips with frustration. “Ye know very well that the kind of service ye are asking for is nae the sort that I was training to do beneath my father’s roof.”

  Brina suddenly stopped speaking as she noticed just where Connor’s attention was centered. He was staring at her breasts and the very noticeable mounds they made with her hands on her hips. The thin fabric displayed the puckered peaks of her nipples, even hinting at the darker skin because the fabric was so delicate a weave.

  He smirked at her, and she turned around but gasped when her memory offered up just what he’d do when presented with her back.

  Connor laughed and reached down to unlace one boot. His amusement echoed off the wall behind her as he pulled the boot off. The fact that he did it so confidently and with such ease spoke of a man who hadn’t been raised with service being lavished upon him.

  “I admit that I was looking forward to having ye tending to me, but if ye are too timid to do so, I’ll see to the matter myself.”

  “I am nae timid.”

  His eyebrow rose once again, and he extended his foot with the lace hanging free from the antler-horn buttons.

  “Then prove it. If I wanted to hear someone tell me tales that have fact mixed with fiction, I’d have remained below.”

  He was daring her. The challenge was as plain as the sound of the surf coming from behind her. She knew it and yet couldn’t seem to smother the impulse to go to him. The desire to prove that she was not intimidated
by him was too powerful to resist, and she leaned over to grasp his boot before thinking any further about it.

  The front of her undergown gaped wide open, and Connor looked right down her body while she slid the boot off his foot. But she held it up and lifted her chin in spite of the smirk that decorated his features.

  “Ye have hard nipples. Is that from the chill or the memory of how ye enjoyed having my lips sucking on them last night?”

  “The chill,” she snapped back at him. His lips didn’t turn down into a frown but rose higher so that his smirk became a wide smile that flashed his teeth at her.

  “Well now, if that’s the case, you should be in bed where I may warm ye, Brina.”

  He didn’t give her time to consider her answer. Connor left the stool behind in a flash of motion and swept her off her feet in the next instant. He cradled her against his chest, sending a jolt of enjoyment through her at the demonstration of his greater strength. She failed to understand it but couldn’t deny that his greater size and power impressed a part of her mind that she had suspected might issue opinions.

  “I had this bed made for ye, Brina.”

  He angled her beneath the thick rod that held the curtain and laid her on the creamy sheet. The bedding was fresh, and the scent of salt came through the open window. But her senses were also drawing in the musky hint of his skin, and she recalled it vividly from last night when he had been deep inside her and it had felt as if there was nothing between them except pleasure.

  “Everything in it, I selected myself.”

  “Ye’re a good man.” She meant it too and felt regret ripple through her for the facts that kept her from doing exactly what he wanted.

  “No, I am simply a man who has known what it is like to sleep in the stable on a bench that was not big enough for a child, much less a man.”

  He looked at the canopy above their heads and reached out to pat one of the corner posts that held that fabric above their heads.

  “But ye understand that as well, dinna ye, Brina?” His gaze returned to hers, and his blue eyes were piercing. “Fate has an interesting sense of humor to pair us together when we had each accepted to make do with much less.”