Arabella’s mind swirled with doubt as she rationalized her choices to herself. She made her way to the Merry Widow and went around back, just as she had at the last tavern. A woman opened the door this time and invited her in. She slipped into the kitchens and inched closer to the door that allowed her to peek into the main room. Men in varying states of inebriation filled the tavern. She glanced around the room, but her eyes fixed on the dark-haired warrior who grinned as a serving wench leaned over as she placed a drink before him. Arabella watched Lachlan grin as the women’s breasts nearly tumbled out of her blouse. She dropped the coins he handed her down the front of her top and offered him a salacious smile. Lachlan chuckled and waggled his eyebrows. The woman took his reaction as an invitation and dropped into his lap, pressing his face into her cleavage. Lachlan pulled away immediately but laughed again.
Arabella thought she would be ill when she saw him tweak her nipple. It was over in a matter of a blink, unlike how he’d played with her breast the night before. He pushed the woman off his lap, and it was that moment that he looked in Arabella’s direction. He was out of his seat in a flash, and Arabella let go of the door. She fled through the kitchen and ran back into the pitch-black night. She glanced around, looking for somewhere to hide. If Lachlan followed her, there was no way she could outrun him. Arabella made for the shadows between two buildings, but she clawed at the man who captured her arm.
“Cease, Belle. It’s me,” came the angry growl. “Cease or I shall spank your perfect little derriere.”
Arabella froze. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t I? You’re not the only one who likes a little whisky at night.”
“I noticed. Go back to her. Go back to your whore and see if she likes the name Arabella.”
“Why do that when the woman I want is standing right in front of me?” Lachlan grinned, and the light from the moon allowed her to see what would have been a jovial expression in other circumstances.
“I don’t want you,” Arabella spat. The words hung in the air. It was a lie, and they both knew it. “You’re the one who’s drunk.”
“Don’t like it?” Lachlan taunted. “Perhaps you’d like to know what it tastes like to kiss someone with whisky on their breath. Or do you taste of it too?”
“I’m sure you’d like to ken, but you won’t.”
“Won’t I, Belle? Have the past three days been even a bit of torture to you? They’ve been pure agony to me.” Lachlan eased his hand to her waist, then onto her back before sliding to her backside. “I’d only spank you if you wanted me to.”
“Why would I want that?” At the confusion and disgust in her voice, Lachlan leaned next to her ear.
“Because you want my hands on you as much as I want to put them there. Because you’re risking your pretty little neck, and I’m livid. Because you haven’t screamed or tried to run away,” Lachlan whispered against her cheek, the smell of whisky wafting to her nose. The scent was welcome and familiar, and she wanted to taste it as much as she wanted to taste Lachlan. As though he sensed her temptation, he squeezed her backside. “You want a taste. You can’t have the whisky without the mon.”
“I want both,” Arabella breathed.
Their bodies collided as Lachlan pulled her toward him. Arabella’s hands flew up to brace herself, but as soon as they felt the scorching heat through his leine, she fisted the material. She tugged until Lachlan bent low enough for her to find his mouth. The kiss was savage as they both tried to master the other. Inspiration struck Arabella as Lachlan pushed his sporran out of the way and ground his length against her mons. She thought of something Blair told her that a woman could do with her mouth to please a man. She’d heard of it before, but Blair had convinced her it was enjoyable for both partners. While Arabella wouldn’t drop to her knees like a doxy, she sucked Lachlan’s tongue into her mouth. His response was immediate. He lifted her off her feet and moved them further into the dark before pressing her against a wall.
“If you weren’t a maiden, I would be inside you,” Lachlan ground out as his hips rocked against Arabella’s mound. “It’s your kisses that make me drunk.”
“If I’m no longer a maiden, I can’t marry him. I won’t stop you.” But Arabella’s words stopped Lachlan. He released her and yanked her arms from around his neck.
“You want me to fuck you because you don’t want to marry Beathan. You’d make me your whore for the night to escape him. Use your whisky to escape your life, not me.” Lachlan gripped Arabella’s arm and dragged her from between the buildings. He knew his guards would be waiting for him. He swung Arabella around until she stood before him. He dropped his voice until only she could hear. “They will take you back to the keep. I have unfinished business to conduct. At least the whore inside doesn’t want me for aught more than my coin.”
Arabella’s hand flew toward his face, but he caught her finely boned wrist. “Go fuck her, but she will never be me. And Beathan will never be you. You deserve the same misery I do.”
Lachlan heard the pain he felt in Arabella’s voice. He had no intention of following through with his threat of bedding the woman inside the tavern, and he couldn’t go through with letting Arabella think he would. He glanced at his guards before guiding Arabella back into the shadows.
“I can’t let you leave thinking I’m going in there. I’m not. I don’t want her, or anyone else,” Lachlan admitted.
“Why are we trying to hurt each other? We’ve never argued, and now we’re spewing horrid, venomous things at one another,” Arabella’s voice trembled.
“Because we’re frustrated over a situation we created.”
“I didn’t want to upset your sisters. I was scared it would ruin our friendships if things didn’t work out with you,” Arabella confessed.
“I feared the same. I didn’t want to cause a rift between you and my sisters, and I didn’t want to disappoint them if you turned me away.”
“I wouldn’t have turned you away,” Arabella whispered.
“I know that now,” Lachlan replied.
“Now what?”
“I don’t know.” Lachlan shook his head. “King Robert said your father is working on that betrothal. We can’t keep doing this if you’re to be promised to another mon.”
“I don’t want him,” Arabella’s voice croaked.
“I know. Belle, will you let me speak to King Robert? May I ask him to intervene?”
“To what end?” Arabella asked cautiously.
“So I may make an offer for your hand. I think it’s what we both want,” Lachlan said slowly.
“It’s what I want,” Arabella nodded.
“I will try to gain an audience with him tomorrow, but I can’t guarantee he’ll see me that soon.” The pair looked at one another, the moonlight offering enough illumination to see each other's face. Lachlan tucked hair behind Arabella’s ear, then cupped her cheek. “You are so precious to me, Belle. I don’t want to keep hurting you. I never imagined I could say the things I’ve said this sennight.”
“I’m sorry,” they said in unison. They smiled, and Lachlan wrapped his arms around Arabella. She encircled his waist with her own arms and laid her head against his chest. The embrace was meant to offer comfort, and both reveled in the feel of holding one another. Lachlan rested his cheek on the crown of her head, and Arabella sighed, content for the first time since Lachlan and his family arrived in Stirling.
“I don’t want to move,” Lachlan murmured.
“Me neither,” Arabella mumbled against his chest.
“But I need to get you back to the castle. It’s not safe out here for you.”
Arabella’s stomach clenched. She knew Lachlan was right. The situation at the Picked Over Plum already taught her that, but she hadn’t gotten what she set out for. They might have resolved things between them, but she was still in need of more whisky. As Lachlan drew away, she sighed. She would have to ask her guard Edwin in the morning to fetch more. There was nothing she cou
ld do that night, and she didn’t want Lachlan to know why she’d left the castle.
“Belle, why were you out here tonight? Why were you in a tavern kitchen?” Lachlan asked as he slipped his hand around Arabella’s while they walked back toward the guards. The Sutherland men averted their eyes and pretended as though they hadn’t seen the couple emerge from the shadows twice, nor that they found Arabella outside a tavern. She dreaded answering the question, and she suspected Lachlan already knew. But he wanted her to confess. She felt her defenses rise again, and it made her wish all the more for the calming escape whisky brought. She would be better able to answer the question if she didn’t already feel so testy.
“Lach, you know why,” Arabella muttered.
“You’re that desperate?” Lachlan demanded.
“Don’t use that tone with me. I don’t need your condescension,” Arabella spat.
“But you need my common sense. Someone could have attacked you. For what? A little libation? It’s not worth your life.”
Arabella clenched her jaw to keep from answering. She had nothing nice to say, and she didn’t want their argument to flare again. She nodded, but her jaw hurt from how her teeth ground together. She forced herself to keep her thoughts to herself as they moved through the night.
Nine
Arabella and Lachlan walked in silence through the town until they entered the keep’s bailey. Lachlan bid his warriors goodnight and escorted Arabella back into the castle through the silent kitchens. Before they reached the passageway that held her chamber, Lachlan guided her into an alcove with a tapestry hung at the entrance.
“Belle, you frighten me with your recklessness. I don’t want to know if you’ve slipped out before. Finding you in that tavern was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced. All I could think aboot was getting to you before someone else found you. Those men in there wouldn’t have thought twice aboot molesting you, and you’re neither large enough nor trained to fight them off. I’m calm enough now to realize my anger came from fear. I—I care for you.”
Lachlan knew those weren’t the words he wanted to say, and they sounded lame to his ears. But he wasn’t certain yet that Arabella’s feelings matched his. She’d spoken in anger too, but he knew it didn’t come from fear. He worried she didn’t love him as he did her.
“Lach, I care for you too. Very much. I was humiliated and scared that you found me. I didn’t know what you would do. As much as I didn’t want to be found, I feared you would leave me. You threatened to do just that.”
“I’ll never leave you, Belle. Never,” Lachlan swore.
“You will when you have to leave for home,” Arabella croaked as the lump rose in her throat.
“Belle, I’m not leaving Stirling until you’re my betrothed. If you’ll have me, I will marry you, Belle. You won’t be any mon’s wife but mine.”
“You mean that?”
“With every ounce of honor I possess in my Highlander soul. I’ve waited five years to tell you that. I should have been braver and spoken to you and my sisters. I should have confessed my wish to marry you sooner. We could already be wed.”
“I don’t know that I would have let you. Not while either Maude or Blair were here. Their friendship kept me afloat, and I was too frightened to lose that.”
“I think Blair knows how we feel. It wouldn’t surprise me if Maude figured it out, too. Now that I’m not keeping my feelings a secret, I can acknowledge what Blair hinted at more than once. I think my sisters would have encouraged us, had we let them.”
“Mayhap you’re right. Good Lord, our denial was for no reason. So much time wasted, Lach,” Arabella said as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Lachlan kissed them away, tasting the salt on his tongue, before trailing kisses to her jaw then her neck. He peppered her skin with scorching but light kisses until Arabella moaned. She tilted her head back as her fingers wove through his hair. When she couldn’t resist the need to return his kisses, she tugged on his hair, pulling his mouth from the sensitive flesh where her neck met her shoulder. Their mouths sought one another, and Lachlan sighed as his tongue dipped into her mouth.
Lachlan’s hands squeezed her soft backside, and he groaned to feel the flesh fill his palms. Arabella mimicked his action, and her hands cupped his taut buttocks. It was as hard as the stone walls Lachlan had pressed her against more than once. Her hands slid over the rounded surface until she discovered grooves at his hips.
“They were made for your hands, Belle. Made to hold me as I bury myself in you and pleasure you,” Lachlan whispered. His mouth was running away from him once more as he remembered this woman he held was a virgin, not one of the wenches or widows he’d bedded in the past. “I shouldn’t say such things. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize. I’ve been curious for so long to discover what your body would feel like against mine, and my body aches for you to do just what you said. I don’t ken why, but I need to hear you desire me as much as I desire you. I need to know I’m not the only one who feels this way,” Arabella confessed. “I’ve wondered and doubted for so long.”
“Belle, you must know that I want you more than any woman. You’re all I think aboot, all I want.”
“I ken, but it still feels good to hear it,” Arabella mumbled as Lachlan launched another assault on her neck. One of her hands strayed from his backside as it roamed over his back and then around to his chest. His broad shoulders meant that there were hard planes to run her hand over even as he was pressed against her. Her cool fingers found the blazing skin where the ties to his leine were loose.
“The feel of your skin on mine is nearly too much, Belle. Will you let me touch you? I can introduce you to pleasure, but I won’t take your innocence,” Lachlan asked.
“I hope by the time we leave here, I’m not as innocent as I was when we came in,” Arabella grinned.
“I can assure you of that, but I will leave you a maiden still. We can’t be sure of what will come,” Lachlan admitted.
“I’ll be like Allyson Elliot and run away if my father tries to force me.”
“I’ll be like poor Ewan Gordon and chase after you,” Lachlan chuckled as he gathered the material of her skirts.
“Poor Ewan naught. She was running from him. I’d bring you along with me,” Arabella grinned until she felt Lachlan’s fingertips graze the back of her thighs and his hand cup her bare bottom. The time for jesting ended when Arabella moaned and dug her fingers into Lachlan’s back. Spurred on by her excitement, Lachlan kneaded the globes as he dipped his fingers between her legs. His fingers slid across her damp seam, and he returned her moan with his own groan. His fingers pressed further into her entrance as his other hand retreated and moved to pluck loose the ribbons of her kirtle.
When there was enough give for one sleeve to slip down her shoulder, he bared her breast. Her raspberry nipple puckered in the chill air and from his attention. He ran his thumb over it until it was a taut bud. He cupped her breast much like he had her backside, her nipple fitting between his fingers. With each squeeze, his fingers pinched her nipple until it elongated, and he lowered his head to suckle. Arabella gasped as his tongue rasped over the sensitive tip. She was certain he was trying to swallow her alive as most of her small, pert breast fit into his mouth. The moment he began to suckle, her knees went limp.
Lachlan’s other arm, wrapped around her with his fingers still working her sheath, braced her. Paying rapt attention to her breast, Lachlan’s now-free hand gathered the fabric of her gown in the front. When he could reach, his hand caressed her bottom, then her hip, until his fingers brushed the curls at the juncture of her thighs. Arabella fumbled to flip her skirts over her still-covered shoulder. Lachlan slid his thigh between hers and lifted her leg to hook over his hip. With his fingers and his solid tree-trunk thigh, he aroused Arabella to a state where she was certain she would soon be delirious. She grasped the hem of his plaid and pulled up, but Lachlan’s hand snagged one of her wrists.
“Do that, and my cock will find your cunny,” Lachlan warned. “I won’t ruin you, Belle. I will make you my wife, and I will fight tooth and nail to do it. But you can’t risk me failing.”
Arabella leaned her forehead against Lachlan’s shoulder and nodded. She knew he was right, but her body demanded attention in a way her mind couldn’t overrule. Lachlan’s hand pressed her against his thigh in a rocking motion until she realized the arousing effect it had on her. He returned his mouth to her breast as Arabella moaned. She’d never felt anything like what Lachlan was doing to her body. It felt like it was alive and humming with a need, for what she didn’t know. She knew it was a climax since she’d heard women speak of it, but she couldn’t imagine how it would feel.
Arabella tugged at the back of Lachlan’s leine, sliding her hands beneath the linen until her nails could glide along his back. With each darting sensation to and from her pleasure bud, Arabella’s fingers pressed harder as though she might push Lachlan’s body to consume her, making them one.
“The feel of your fingers, your nails on me. Mark me as yours,” Lachlan panted, and Arabella realized that his need was as strong as hers. She ran the nails of her left hand up his thigh as she rocked against it. When they reached his plaid, she flattened her hand and slid it beneath the wool. The back of her hand brushed Lachlan’s rod, and he sucked in a whistling breath. Taking it as a sign that he enjoyed her touch, she ran her knuckles along the smooth skin, barely touching him. When he groaned, she pushed back his plaid, exposing his length. But the dim light only allowed Arabella to see a shadow.
“Belle, that isn’t wise. I want you too much. You’re too much temptation. At least one of us should be covered, or we will end up joining,” Lachlan warned.
“And you know this for sure?” Arabella questioned.
A Beauty at the Highland Court: A Star-Crossed Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 7) Page 7
