Temptation of a Highland Scoundrel

by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

  He would’ve done right by her.

  It was a gamble he’d lost.

  She was winning this battle, and he wasn’t a man who enjoyed defeat.

  So he stood a bit taller than usual, hoping to appear as harsh and daunting as the jagged peaks soaring above them. He also tried to think of something suitably off-putting to say to her. Words that would prove how dark, untamed, and desolate Nought truly was.

  Inspiration came when she took another long breath, closing her eyes in appreciation.

  “The air here is often so filled with mist that you can’t see the spray from the falls, my lady.” Kendrew kept a firm grip on her arm as he spoke. “You are fortunate to be here on a bright afternoon. One wrong step”—he pulled her closer, already regretting having chosen this site to show her—“and there is nothing but a sheer drop straight down to the Dreagans’ Bath.”

  “Do they truly bathe there?” She leaned forward, peering over the ledge to the sparkling blue pool far below. “I would joy to see them if they do.”

  “Sakes!” Kendrew yanked her back from the edge. “Have a care. This is not your Haven with its pinewood and gently rolling meadows of primrose.”

  “I thought to see if a dreagan swam.” She glanced at him, her face alight with whimsy. “You didn’t answer me.”

  “I thought I heard them splashing about down there once, aye.” Kendrew set his mouth in a hard line, hoping to lend more seriousness to such folly. “I was but a boy at the time,” he added, speaking honestly.

  “Though…” He looked off into the distance, beyond the soaring peaks. “Some of our clan graybeards insist the beasts come here still, just as they did in the days before this earth was weaned. On such days, when the mist is too thick to see your hand before your face, our storytellers do claim that one can hear the creatures bathing here.”

  He slanted a glance at Isobel.

  If he hoped to scare her, he failed.

  Instead, she smiled. “The pool is a perfect place for them. I should like to bathe there myself.”

  “You’d freeze.” He frowned at her, trying to close his ears to her wonder.

  Regrettably, his heart betrayed him, beating harder on each word of her praise.

  No gentle-bred lady should admire a place of such treacherous beauty.

  Made of rock and mist and the roar of the falls, this was a calamitous spot—one that many believed cursed. Even stags avoided Dreagan Falls, and the barren pinnacles rising all around the falls were so bleak even eagles went elsewhere to make their eyries. And the narrow footpath that led through a crevice in the cliffs, the only entrance to the ledge where they now stood, was so tight in places that a man could only pass by squeezing in his gut and going sideways.

  Isobel hadn’t blinked when they’d pressed through the constricting space.

  She’d cried out in delight as they’d stepped through onto the bluff.

  “I have never seen anywhere more magnificent.” She repeated the same words she’d said moments ago.

  “Men have plunged to their death here, my lady.” It was true. “Most living creatures shun this place.”

  “Then they do not know how to look at the world through their hearts, do they?” She made it sound so simple.

  “And”—she tossed back her hair, turning to look at him—“I doubt the men who fell were Mackintoshes. That is so, is it not?”

  Kendrew tightened his jaw, defeat inching ever closer.

  Could she read him so easily?

  He inhaled deeply, feeling more trapped than he had inside the bone-squeezing cliff passage. “Nae, they were not Mackintoshes. Nought men ne’er fall off mountains. We are bold and sure-footed, always. I would no’ have brought you here otherwise.”

  “I know why you brought me here.” She glanced down into the rock-walled ravine, even thrust out a hand, wriggling her fingers in the shimmering clouds of spray.

  When she looked back at him, Kendrew knew she’d overheard his words to James that morning. The challenge sparking in hers was telling.

  “You thought to frighten me with Nought’s boulders and fissures, the rough and rocky heights.” Her words proved it, shaming him.

  He had hoped to scare her away.

  But with good, sound reason.

  Dangers lurked in wind and mist. Rocks could crush a man if he had the misfortune to stand in their hurtling, downward path. In winter, Nought held snow-shadows that no fire could warm. Autumn brought more than bright, golden leaves. Cold wind and rains swept the land then, hinting at the deeper chill to come, and the long, dark nights that never ended. And in spring, rather than flowers blooming, gales blew and the spates turned torrential.

  Summer passed too swiftly to bear mention.

  Knowing he was about to treat her in a way that would reinforce every slur folk hurled at him, Kendrew gave her a look he hoped was feral. A piercing glance sharp enough to chase the wonder off her face.

  “See here, lass.” He lifted her hand, turning her fingers so that Grim’s warrior ring caught the sunlight. “You should be wearing a fine ruby or sapphire ring. A grand lady’s jewel set in purest gold.”

  He released her hand, gripping her shoulders. “Your husband-to-be should be escorting you through glittering halls thronged with nobles and other ladies of gentle birth.” He held her gaze, each word ripping his heart. “You belong in an elegant place where the greatest danger is having a musician’s inept string-plucking offend your delicate ears. Nought is no place for…”

  He couldn’t finish, sure that the rock-face behind them heard and was scowling.

  The truth was Nought needed Isobel.

  He certainly did.

  “Did you never think, Kendrew”—she spoke his name for the first time, breaking his gaze to look thoughtfully at the falls’ leaping spray—“that greater jewels are to be found here than in any courtier’s sparkling hall?”

  Kendrew stopped breathing, her words wrapping round his heart, squeezing.

  He didn’t speak.

  The last thing he wanted was to splutter like a fool. Or worse, let her guess that the sudden sheen in his eye was caused by something other than the wind.

  “I see you haven’t considered the matter.” She didn’t look at him, her gaze still on the clouds of shimmering spume from the waterfall.

  “So-o-o…” Now she did turn back to him. And he knew that her perceptive dark eyes could see straight into his soul. “I ask you this: are there not rubies in autumn-red bracken? Or in the bright scarlet berries of the rowans growing out of cracks in this very bluff?

  “And you speak of sapphires…” She tipped back her head, peering up at the sky. “What of the clear deep blue above us, not marred by a single cloud? And gold?” She turned back to him again, shaking her head slowly. “Can it be you have never gazed on a Highland sunset?”

  Kendrew swallowed before the thickness in his throat could worsen. “Lady Isobel…”

  “Isobel, please.” She smiled, a dimple flashing in her cheek, melting him. “Do you not see? I love this place and I would rather be here, with you, than anywhere else in the whole of the world.”

  “You say that now.” He couldn’t believe her. He did reach to touch her face, briefly. “When winter comes and the nights are long and dark, wind howling—”

  “We will have good reason to stay abed and breed sons.” She looked at him, beaming.

  Kendrew almost choked. “You are beginning to convince me, lady.”

  “I can do more than that.” She tilted her head, her smile turning seductive. “I can prove it to you.”

  Before he could respond, she gripped her skirts, pulling up her gown so that the material bunched around her hips. Her long, shapely legs took his breath. Praise Odin she held her skirts in such a way that the sooty curls of her womanhood were hidden from view.

  Even so…

  He knew they were there.

  He’d brushed his fingers across the tantalizing softness of those curls. The intimacy
still scorched his memory. Just now, merely thinking about it set him like granite.

  “Lady—Isobel, what are you doing?” It was so hard to keep his gaze on hers.

  Everything in him demanded that he look down, drinking in the beauty of her legs until the pounding at his groin gave him no choice but to pull her into his arms and crush his mouth over hers, kissing her again and again as he claimed what he needed from her.

  Her spring violet scent wafted around him, urging him on.

  He bit back a curse, hoping she wouldn’t see how close she was to winning.

  “You’re not looking, Kendrew.” Her voice was teasing.

  Her words were killing him.

  “To be sure, I’m no’ looking.” He wasn’t about to do so.

  He still wasn’t sure this betrothal—or 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—”

  “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 over 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 forgot 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 a 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 Seventeen

  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 it in 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, like 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.

  They were delicious tingles.

  And she could tell by looking at him that he was equally roused.

  She’d never dreamed her Thor’s hammer bea
uty 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 you are 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 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…