Cate nodded in complete agreement.
The wind howled around the shutters and made its way into the room. Even the little flames of the fire danced wildly in response to it.
“I guess I should change out of this gown. It’s old and kind of delicate.”
“Aye. I suppose that would be for the best.” He turned around and looked at the door. “I’ll keep my back turned, if you like, but I’m no going out that door.” He shuddered and smiled when she laughed.
She looked around the room.
“I have an idea,” she said as she walked toward the bed. “Help me untie all these draperies. We can draw them closed and it will make a perfect dressing room.”
He gave her a doubtful look but assisted her in closing the curtains about the bed.
Cate thought for a moment, trying to decide what she could change into. Wearing his shirt last night had very nearly gotten her into trouble, so she quickly discarded that idea. Then her eyes lit on her own silk pajamas. Why not? Who knew when she’d be going home? She might as well be dressed for it. Taking them in a bundle, she climbed up into the bed to change.
Her makeshift dressing room quickly revealed its pros and cons. She had her privacy, but it was dark. Very dark.
It was only after she was kneeling in the bed that she realized she couldn’t get out of the dress by herself. She might in time make her way through enough of the buttons on the arms to allow her to pull her hands out, but there was no way she’d ever be able to undo the back of her dress. She considered her options for only a moment. She didn’t have any.
“Connor?” She poked her head out of the curtains, following it with her body. “I need your help.”
He looked up immediately when she called his name. He sat in a chair pulled close to the fire, slowly feeding more wood into the sputtering flames.
“I’m at yer service, milady.” He smiled.
She felt the smile to the tips of her toes. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to where he sat and extended an arm.
“I’m stuck in my dress. I can’t reach all these buttons to undo them. Would you help me?”
He stood slowly. For just an instant she could have sworn she saw something flicker behind his eyes before he reached for her wrist and began to work at the buttons. When he finished her second arm, she turned her back and lifted her hair.
Was that a groan? She turned sharply to look at him, but his eyes gave nothing away as he worked studiously at pushing the tiny pearls through the tiny holes.
“If you’d just be still, this would go a bit faster,” he grumbled.
When he finished, she held the dress tightly to her and climbed back into the curtained bed. Not only was it dark in the confined space, it had also gotten warm. Very warm. Perspiration dotted her forehead by the time she finished changing into her pajamas. Those old-timers who invented these heavy bed curtains had certainly known what they were doing.
Cate folded her dress and laid it near the far edge of the bed. She attempted to pull the garland from her hair, but it tangled further so she left it there. Propping the pillows alongside the wall behind her, she leaned back against them to wait.
Instantly the dark closed in on her, and her own breathing sounded loud. This wasn’t going to work at all.
“Connor?” She poked her head out through the curtains again, this time at the foot of the bed.
He sat, leaning toward the fire, rubbing his hands together. The room felt quite chilled in comparison to the enclosed area of the bed. The rain had returned in full force and was blowing against the shutters, with some of the moisture finding its way into the room.
“Aren’t you going to come in here with me? It’s certainly drier and much warmer.” She held out her hand in invitation.
“This will be fine. You go ahead and try to get some sleep. I’ll keep watch over the door.” He didn’t turn around.
Cate considered her situation briefly. This could be her very last opportunity to spend time with him, to even talk to him. She wasn’t going to let it pass by with her in a dark little cave hyperventilating as the walls closed in while he sat out by the fire, cold and uncomfortable.
She climbed out the foot of the bed and padded over to him. Inside the curtains she hadn’t thought to put on the jacket that went with her pajamas. She was warm enough. Out here, however, the cold air immediately raised chill bumps on her skin. Cold and damp was not a pleasant combination.
Squatting down beside him, she reached for his hand. This time he did groan when he looked at her. Low in his throat, more exhaled air than true sound.
“Yer going to freeze out here dressed like that. Get back into bed.” He tried to make it sound gruff, frowning at her, but he rubbed her hand in between his. “Yer already getting chilled.”
“Well, then we’ll freeze together. I’m not going back in there alone.” When he would have protested, she placed her finger over his lips. “It’s dark in there and I don’t like being in the dark alone. Come with me. Keep me company. I’m not sleepy anyway.” She stood up and tugged at his arm.
He shook his head but allowed her to pull him to his feet, and he followed her to the bed. She crawled in first and he followed, leaving an opening in the curtains at the foot of the bed. The flicker of the firelight dimly illuminated their little cave, giving it a cozy rather than claustrophobic feel. Or maybe it was the company that changed the feel of the space.
She began pulling at the garland again, but he moved her hands and gently unwound her hair until the garland was free. He tossed it to the foot of the bed.
They sat with their backs propped against the wall, several inches separating them, until Cate scooted closer. Connor lifted his arm and she ducked under it, allowing it to rest on her shoulders, leaning her head over against his chest. She held his hand, twisting the ring she’d so recently placed on his finger.
She held up her own hand next to his, and admired the gold bands there in the faint light. Intricate carvings covered their surface. Hers felt warm and heavy on her hand. It felt as if it belonged there.
“These rings are beautiful. Tell me about them.”
He reached out and touched the one on her hand, turning it around and around on her finger.
“There’s no much to tell. They’ve been in my family for generations. My grandparents wore them last. They had been passed to Rosalyn. She brought them to me yestereve, saying as she’d hae no need for them, it would honor her if I used them today.”
Her curiosity got the best of her. “Why has Rosalyn never married? She’s a beautiful woman.”
“There hae been those who hae sought her hand, but she’s refused them all. She says she waits for her true love to ask.” He shrugged and continued to turn the ring.
No wonder the woman had insisted on that bit about true love at the Faerie Glen. She truly believed in it.
“Your grandparents wore these last? I would have expected you to have used your parents’ rings.”
In the dim light, his face hardened and his lips drew tight. “I’d no put my mother’s ring on yer hand.”
“Why not? What happened with your mother? What did she do that made you so angry?”
He started to pull his arm away, but she held tightly to his hand.
“Tell me. I know there’s something. Blane was trying to upset you with it the night of our betrothal party, out there on the balcony when he mentioned this necklace being your mother’s.” She touched the jewel at her throat. “What happened?”
He was silent for a moment, his body tense, head bowed. When he spoke his voice was raw with agony. “She betrayed my father’s memory. She moved from here to Dun Ard, gave herself to Artair. They sent me away then, to school in Britain, where my mother’s people lived. I hated her for that.”
In the silence that followed, his free hand clenched into a fist, shaking with the force of the pressure he applied. When he continued, the words were spoken so quietly, Cate needed to strain to hear them.
“Then she died. While I was so far away, unable to watch over her, unable to protect her, she died.”
Such horrible, undeserved guilt for a boy to carry into manhood.
“I’m so sorry, Connor.”
His body stiffened at her words. “I dinna need yer pity.”
“And you don’t have it.”
He shifted to look at her, a frown on his face.
“I’m serious. I’m sorry you carry that burden, but I don’t pity you. At least you remember your mother. I have almost no memories of mine.”
He leaned back against the wall again, and Cate waited, the silence again building between them. Her only consolation was that he allowed his hand to remain linked to hers.
“Did you ever ask her why she made the choice she did?” she whispered.
“What?”
“Your mother. Did you ever ask her why?”
He paused for a moment and she thought he might not answer, then he shook his head.
“There was never a time to ask. I tried to talk her out of it. I pleaded, I argued, I forbid it. So they sent me away. But I dinna need to ask why. It would hae been for the power and the wealth. Artair was the laird. My mother had always been the laird’s wife. I suppose she could no help herself. Even though she went to him only as his woman, no as his wife. It’s the way of women.”
Cate continued to hold his hand, stroking the back of it, until gradually the tension in his arm ebbed away. He reached out with his other hand and touched the ring he’d placed on her finger that morning, reminding her it was still there.
“I suppose I should give this back to you now since I don’t have any idea when I’ll . . . ” She didn’t think she could even say the words. “I mean, we finished what I came here for. You’re married now, the king seems happy, you can stay home and take care of Mairi.” She stopped and breathed in deeply. “Do you have any idea when it will happen? When I just won’t be here anymore?” Her voice cracked on the last.
Connor tightened his arm around her. “I dinna ken the way it will end.” He stopped and breathed deeply, too. “I think I would like it best if you would wear the ring. I’ll hae no need of it again. I like the way it looks where it is. Think of it as a keepsake, something to help you remember yer visit here.”
They were quiet for a time, simply sitting together in the warmth, holding hands.
Her adventure was at an end; the four weeks she’d thought an eternity, gone in the blink of an eye. She’d done everything she’d agreed to. And more. She’d never expected to become attached to any of these people, and yet they were as much a part of her life now as those back home.
Home. At any moment, she would be transported back to her own life, back to . . . what? What waited for her there? Richard? No. Now that she knew what it was to feel love for someone, she could never settle for less.
Cate glanced up at Connor. He sat with his head back against the pillows she’d propped there, his eyes closed, pinched little lines at their outer edges.
If Mairi was right and there was only one true love for each person, Cate had no doubt that she had found hers and yet she was getting ready to leave him behind. By this time tomorrow, she’d have no more than the heavy ring on her finger and a memory.
Glancing up at Connor one more time, Cate made up her mind. If all she would have was a memory, she might as well make it a memory worth having.
“Connor?” Though she whispered, he started at the sound.
“Aye?”
Unable to easily find the words to ask for what she wanted, she stroked the back of his hand with her finger, avoiding his eyes.
“When I’m gone, I would like to think that you won’t forget me right away.”
“I dinna think I’ll be forgetting you anytime soon.”
His voice had an odd catch to it so she risked a quick look at his face. His eyes were electric in the muted light of their man-made cave.
“What I mean is, I know you don’t have a very high opinion of women and I don’t want you to remember me like that.” She was making a mess of this. “Not when I know I’ll never forget you.”
His eyebrow lifted in question, while his eyes narrowed. “What would you have me remember of you then, Cate?”
She released his hand and rose to her knees. Turning to kneel beside him, she cupped his face in her hands.
“Only this,” she said, leaning in to kiss him softly.
His entire body stiffened and he watched her warily, but she was determined not to be deterred at this point.
She broke the kiss, her hands moving up the roughened stubble of his cheeks and into his soft hair.
His hands remained at his side, fisted tightly.
Tucking the little braid behind his ear as she’d longed to do so many times, she leaned into him again, placing a delicate kiss on the ear she’d brushed with her finger.
He still hadn’t moved when she ran the tip of her tongue around the edge of his ear, ending at the lobe, which she gently gripped between her teeth and sucked.
He grasped her upper arms so quickly, she wasn’t even sure she’d seen him move.
“You must stop. You’ve no idea what yer doing,” he growled, pushing her back.
When his grip loosened, she rose again to her knees, this time straddling his lap as she moved in closer.
“That’s where your wrong, Connor. I know exactly what I’m doing.” More or less.
Once more she leaned into him, her hands back in his hair, and again she traced the contour of his ear with her tongue, sucking his lobe into her mouth.
It made a tiny sucking sound when he jerked her away, his breathing fast and uneven. Her own breathing seemed a little irregular as she gazed into his eyes.
“I’m sworn, on my honor, to protect you from all harm.” The bruising grip he had on her upper arms gradually relaxed until he no more than touched her skin. “Dinna make it impossible for me to protect you from myself.”
She leaned back from him. Brushing his hands from her arms, a spark of apprehension lit her body at what she was getting ready to do. She’d never thought of herself as an aggressive woman, certainly not in this arena, but she knew what she wanted now.
Reaching down, she grasped the tail of her camisole and lifted it up and over her head, baring herself to him. She trailed her hand down his cheek once again.
“For this one night, Connor, I don’t want you to protect me. I want you to . . . ”—she couldn’t say love me, wasn’t brave enough to admit her feelings to him, so she compromised with herself—“ . . . make love to me.”
He stared at her as if he were frozen as long seconds crawled by and her heart almost stopped. If he rejected her now, she thought she might die of embarrassment.
Then he groaned, and when he gripped her arms this time, it was to drag her body close to his, not to push her away. He buried his face in her breasts, his hands on her back.
“Och, Christ, forgive me,” he whispered, his breath hot on her tender skin.
He rolled them then, bringing her body securely under his. Evidence of his need pressed against her stomach as he slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue darting through her unresisting lips to dance with her own.
She fought with the material of his shirt, pulling at it until he lifted his upper body just enough to tug it over his head and toss the linen wildly away. Then he covered her with his body, his bare chest coarse against her sensitive breasts.
He kissed her again, deeply, before leaving her mouth to trail his lips across her cheek and on to her ear in an obvious imitation of what she’d done to him earlier. He lifted her hair and continued down her neck onto her shoulder, kissing, tasting, nipping.
His hands slid down her shoulders onto her chest, and lightly across her breasts. They stilled there at her gasp, his thumbs slowly rubbing small circles around the nipples that tightened until Cate thought they might burst.
She felt the cool air when his hands moved on, sliding to her sides. He gripped tig
htly and lifted her up in the bed until his lips touched her breast. He held her to him as he kissed his way to one of the recently abandoned nipples, taking it in his mouth, running his tongue around it in the same maddening, circular pattern his thumb had traced.
His hair draped onto her bare chest, feeling like strands of silk to her overly sensitized skin. She buried her hands in it, holding him to her. The coarse stubble of his chin raked a trail as he turned just a little to take the other breast into his mouth.
Gliding from her sides to her back, his hands moved down, encountering the soft, silky material of her pajama bottoms. His thumbs hooked under the elastic and they slid down, his palms sweeping the firm roundness of her bottom.
“Take them off or I tear them off.” His words rumbled against her breast. He rose just inches from her body allowing her to kick off the offending pants.
When his body covered hers again, she realized his plaid had disappeared in the process as well, the heat of his skin melding into her own.
He kissed her breastbone and down, delivering little charged pools of sensation in his wake as his tongue darted along the path he took. At her navel he stopped, nibbling at the edge, his tongue circling, entering, and circling again, over and over.
His hands trailed lower, pushing her legs farther apart, then sliding up her thighs until his thumbs rested over the heat of her center. There they began to move, one circling erotically, mesmerizing her as a powerful arousal grew, consuming her with need.
He nibbled his way back up to her breast, once again lavishing his tongue’s attention on her nipple.
One finger slid across her fevered skin and entered her, pressing deep, moving in and out, slowly, in harmony with the movement of his thumb, like the ebb and flow of an ancient ocean.
She would have screamed with the staggering sensation his hands wrought, but his mouth covered hers, his tongue dipping in to steal her very breath.
A second finger joined the first, and he swallowed her moan, leaving her mouth to trail his lips down her neck and back across her chin.
His hands left her and her body shuddered at the loss.
Thirty Nights With a Highland Husband Page 20
