‘Perhaps this will help you to decide,’ he breathed when she didn’t answer.
His arms came round her with stunning force, and his mouth came down on to hers with a deliberate ruthless expertise, searing her lips with such a burning kiss, just as devastating as the one before, that it kindled a fire in her blood with exquisite slowness and silenced her conscience. She recaptured the storm of sensations unbeknown to her. There was a promise of fulfilment that nothing could hinder. At the height of her beauty, Lorne was made for love—not until later would she be able to judge how Iain had restrained the violence of his desire in order to assure his conquest. Tasting brandy on his lips, she closed her eyes and listened to the awakening of her own body, feeling things that made her long for more than kisses.
With his mouth against hers, he whispered, ‘You want me. Say it.’
‘Yes,’ she breathed, trembling and breathless, sliding her arms round his neck to draw him closer, all her senses becoming limited. ‘I want you. Though I may be damned tomorrow, I do not want you to leave me tonight.’
‘And you are sure of that?’ he asked, giving her one last chance to call a halt to what was about to happen.
Lorne nodded, unable to form that tiny, one-syllable word.
Iain’s eyes burned dark with passion as his lips brushed her cheek. ‘Dear Lord, you’re exquisite. My desire craves appeasement.’
‘Your desire has the taste of strong liquor, my lord,’ Lorne whispered, unable to still her racing heart. ‘I can taste it on your lips.’
‘My predicament would not abate with one dram—it took several,’ he chuckled, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and nuzzling her neck.
‘Which only succeeded in whetting your cravings.’
‘Aye. Do you not realise what a temptation you are to me, my sweet, having you near me day after day, night after night?’
Again his mouth laid siege to her own, taking her lips in a fierce, devouring kiss that sent jolt after jolt of exquisite sensations rocketing through her, filling her with a fever of longing. Releasing her just long enough to remove her robe and nightdress with the dexterous ease of long practice, murmuring to her between kisses, which he dropped on her creamy flesh, and somehow managing to remove his own attire in the process, at last he pulled her down on to the bed beside him. Her cheeks grew hot beneath his devouring gaze and she tried to cover herself with the quilt, but he pulled it away, the mobile line of his mouth quirking in a half-smile.
‘There’s no need for modesty, my love. Tonight I will see all of you.’
Janet had already drawn the heavy curtains round two sides of the bed before she left, so the lovers were cocooned in a warm and wonderful world of their own. One of the two candles spluttered out, leaving them in shadow—neither of them noticed. Lorne felt resigned about what she knew was to happen to her; she also felt defeated, afraid and apprehensive, and yet beneath it all was a wild elation that went surging through her and singing in her blood.
Her flesh burned as she felt Iain’s eyes caress her, tease her, and she shivered and drew in her breath in a half-startled gasp when his strong fingers gently explored every inch of her, cupping, touching, tracing the line of her waist and over the curve of her hips with sure mastery of his subject. Shyly she allowed her own gaze to stray over the contours of her lover’s godlike body stretched out beside her, from his shoulders and deep chest, matted with crisp black hair, to the muscles of his arms and down to his tender fingers.
Proud, savage and determined, his splendid form gleamed in the soft light. She saw herself reflected in his eyes, eyes filled with complex hints of his mood. His kisses acted on her like a balm, blotting out the hostile world, annihilating her fears and loneliness, as his fragrance and his lips filled her mind and soul. Gradually she discarded her prudery and surrendered and gave back in turn, each time more yielding.
Suffused by the scent of the temptress lying beside him and finding her too bewitching to resist, Iain pulled her closer, desire, primitive and potent, pounding through his veins. Her sighs caressed him as he touched her, and little gasps escaped her throat at the ecstasy he aroused when his fingers penetrated her most secret place. He knew instinctively that, unlike all the other women he had bedded, though no longer innocent she was sexually untutored. He gloried in her, and the soft yielding of her body was redolent of his passion. She slipped her tongue into his mouth so daringly that he moaned with the pleasure of it, no longer the seducer but the seduced. It was like being kissed by an angel.
By now all rational thought had flown from Lorne’s head. With an abandon that shocked her, she melted against him, the perfumed mass of her hair resting on him like a golden coverlet as her senses clamoured for him to possess her. Responding to the need he was so skilful at building in her, yielding to the exquisite pleasure of his touch, she soon realised that Iain Monroe was a man of extraordinary skill and power as he rolled her on to her back. Suddenly his weight was on her, and the desire burning in those silver eyes looking down at her was like a savage force devouring him from within. Kissing her with a raw, urgent hunger, he wedged his knee between her legs, and suddenly Lorne felt a fierce stab of pain as he entered her, filling her.
Feeling her body jerk and hearing the cry of pain she tried to muffle in his shoulder, Iain froze as the shock of what he had done was hammered home. In confusion he looked down at her, seeing her eyes were damp with tears.
‘Sweet God in heaven! You’re a virgin.’
She gave him a watery smile. ‘Did you really think I wasn’t? I told you that you shouldn’t always believe what you hear.’
With immense relief Iain saw neither accusation nor victory in her eyes. ‘For what reason do you surrender your virginity to me when I have nothing to offer you?’ Drowning in self-loathing for taking her innocence, he was about to pull away, but she sensed it and coiled her arms round his neck like twin serpents.
‘It’s all right—truly,’ she whispered against his cheek. ‘Don’t stop now. It’s too late anyway.’
Overwhelmed with mindless pleasure and unable to break the contact and relinquish the exquisite feeling of holding her in his arms, Iain complied. There was no holding back and he took possession of her with an ungovernable surge of dominant desire.
When he began to move inside her that was the moment Lorne ceased to think. Something began to uncoil in the pit of her stomach, which gathered momentum with each deep thrust. His hands were beneath her, moulding her hips to take her deeper, and her flesh clutched in spasms at his invading force, sending her to the point of total surrender. The shooting darts of bliss penetrating the depths of her belly loosened her joints so that her arms encircling his shoulders went limp. She arched her back, the soft globes of her breasts pressed flat against his chest.
Wave after wave of exquisite torture washed over her, and only Iain’s steadying rhythm kept her from journeying beyond herself. Exulting silently, she felt herself being ruled by him, possessed by him, feeling his need burning through her with infinite power, igniting her female flesh with new life. They were wrapped in the pure rapture of their union, with no quarter given as senses were besieged, man and woman as close as it was possible to be, yielding and merging with each other.
‘I love you,’ she murmured breathlessly into the warm cords of his neck where a pulse was throbbing frantically. She was unable to do anything other than cling to him and listen to the fading echo of those three words that had passed unguarded from between her lips, as the explosion of pleasure engulfed everything, banishing the past, and she lost herself in the man who had brought her to such heights of incredible bliss.
This man to whom she had given herself had become her lover in every sense of the word. He had made her into a woman, had given her true knowledge of herself, and she was glad it had been him. She struggled upwards out of the warm, pulsating, wonderful world she was reluctant to leave.
The golden glow of the candle washed over them as they lay clasped together, their
moist skin cooling in the night air. They were breathing heavily as they waited for the slow and powerful beating of their hearts that follows climax to return to normal, and to preserve the moment of their union a moment longer, as though afraid to disturb their fragile link by moving.
It seemed a long time before Iain stirred and shifted to his side, taking her with him, pulling the quilt over them both against the chill. Gazing at the incredibly lovely young woman nesting in the crook of his arm, her satiated body aglow from the force of her passion, he felt strangely humble and possessive. The enchanting temptress who had yielded to him without reservation, who had writhed beneath him as he had made love to her, was gentleness and goodness personified. He revelled in the sweetness of her as he stroked her spine, trying not to think and to hold on to the fading euphoria.
‘Did I hurt you?’ he asked quietly after a while, having an odd feeling that for reasons of her own Lorne had cleverly manipulated what had just happened between them.
Her cheeks turned a rosy hue. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘At first.’
‘Forgive me,’ he said with a trace of sarcasm. ‘I don’t have any experience deflowering virgins. Why did you do it, Lorne? Why did you deliberately mislead me into believing you were no longer virtuous? I would like to understand why you did. I insist on your honesty. Lie to me,’ he warned silkily, ‘and I will make your father seem like a saint.’
His threat made Lorne almost sick with fright. Ruefully she slanted her eyes up at him, feeling a prickling of fear that escalated to panic the moment she met his gaze. In contrast to the quiet of his voice, his face was hard. Her mouth went dry and she made as if to shrink away from his protective embrace, but his arm tightened.
‘Stay where you are. I have no intention of letting you go just yet.’
Wordlessly she turned her head away.
When she said nothing, Iain correctly interpreted her silence as reluctance. He caught her chin and turned it back. ‘Look at me.’
Slowly she raised her eyes to his. ‘Why did I do what?’
‘Intentionally let me believe that all those disgusting things Ogleby said about you were true? Do you realise the enormity of what you’ve done?’
‘Yes. I have allowed my father’s arch-enemy to make love to me,’ she whispered, glad that, even though he was angry with her for deceiving him, he continued to hold her.
‘It was rash—suicidal, in fact. You knew what you were doing, didn’t you?’
She nodded miserably.
‘Couldn’t you wait for Galbraith to initiate you?’
She stiffened at the callousness of his words. ‘I have already told you that I will not marry him.’
Iain gave her a long, assessing look. ‘Don’t make assumptions, Lorne. It won’t be the first time a woman has insinuated herself into my bed with marriage in mind. But I won’t marry you,’ he warned quietly, and she felt his hand tighten on her arm like a steel band.
‘Is this all you want from me?’ she asked softly. ‘To have me in your bed?’
‘It’s all I can take. Do not tempt fate beyond this night, for it would grieve me sorely to see the intimacy we have shared turn into bitterness.’
Lorne actually flinched at the bite in his voice. She hadn’t expected him to make any undying declarations of love to her and offer to marry her—not when David’s ghost would always be between them. He simply wanted her in his bed, but not his life. She knew this, so why did it wrench her heart to hear him say it?
‘Don’t worry. I don’t want to marry you either,’ she retaliated crossly, glaring up at him through a haze of wrathful tears, and suddenly wishing he would loosen his hold so that she could escape to the other side of the bed. ‘The last thing I want is a barbarian for a husband. Whether his name happens to be Galbraith or Monroe, they are the same to me.’
Briefly Iain’s eyes blazed into hers. ‘Barbarian? Listen,’ he warned through gritted teeth, his voice a deep rumble in his chest, ‘when I begin to act the barbarian you’ll know it. I assure you, my pet, you don’t want to be my wife.’
‘No, I don’t. I knew that when I let you…well…you know,’ she mumbled, an embarrassed flush sweeping her face when she recalled the intimacy they had shared. ‘With all that is between us, I know you couldn’t possibly marry me—and neither will Duncan now.’
The silence was inaudible. Iain’s entire face instantly became hard and shuttered. So, that was what the insufferable, conniving little wench was up to! He should have known. Rolling her on to her back, he pinned her shoulders to the bed and loomed over her, his eyes snapping on hers. ‘Now I know what game it is you’re playing, I will tell you that I don’t like it. Are you telling me that you sacrificed yourself to me to avoid marriage to Galbraith?’
Terrified of what he would do when she confessed the truth, Lorne kept her eyes on a small pulse beating rapidly in his throat and her voice was a strangled whisper when she shakily confessed, ‘Initially.’
A grim smile touched his mouth. ‘Somehow I knew you’d say that.’
‘But when I gave myself to you it wasn’t Duncan I was thinking of,’ she said quickly, gazing at him meaningfully.
‘And I am to feel grateful for that, am I?’ he rasped bitterly.
‘I thought you might like to know.’
Unable to stay angry with her when her flesh was pressed so intimately against his, a slow, roguish grin dawned across his handsome features. ‘Your generosity warms my heart,’ he chuckled softly. ‘When I decided to make love to you, I wanted you to be everything I believed you to be—everything Ogleby accused you of being.’
‘What? A clever whore?’ she replied bitterly.
‘Not exactly.’ He looked at her with quiet gravity and his voice softened unmistakably. ‘I’m glad I was wrong.’
‘So am I,’ she whispered with a throbbing ache in her voice, and when Iain saw the expression in those smouldering eyes gazing up at him, he saw a feeling so intense that he was humbled by it.
‘Rupert was a popular man of great personal charisma and an exaggerated ego that fed itself on women,’ Lorne went on quietly. ‘He was a charming man until he was angered—and angered he was when he was about to force himself on me but was interrupted when his mother, accompanied by three of her friends, came calling. They found me in complete disarray and assumed the worst. Even now the memory of it makes me feel physically sick. I later found out that I was the only female to reject Rupert’s advances, so I can only assume that in anger he set to work maligning my character to anyone who would listen.’
‘I’m happy to see you survived the ordeal.’
‘I was humiliated, but not destroyed, by it—although at the time I had no idea how thoroughly he tried to besmirch my reputation until you told me. Before the scandal broke my grandmother whisked me back to Yorkshire, you see, so I escaped the worst of it. We were on the point of going to London when Robert’s letter arrived, instructing me to return to Scotland to marry Duncan. I won’t, of course—not that he will have me when he discovers I am no longer the chaste young woman he thinks I am.’
‘How will you deal with it when you return to Drumgow?’ Iain asked gently, already bending his head and brushing his lips over her cheek with the intention of making love to her again. ‘What will you tell your brothers and Galbraith? That I took you against your will? That I raped you?’
‘No, of course not.’ She sighed, closing her eyes, content to let him lull her into a state of euphoria once more. ‘Telling them the truth will not help to overcome the legacy of a bitter past. We cannot remain frozen in sectarian hatreds and suspicions forever. There has been enough strife between the Monroes and the McBrydes over the years without adding to it.’ When he raised his head, she met his stare with an unwavering gaze. ‘I wish no harm to come to you—or my kin.’
Iain looked at her with respect and dwelt on her answer for a long moment, then queried, ‘What loyalty do you owe me? I have deprived you of your freedom, subjected you to public
embarrassment and humiliation, and worse—I have seduced you in the most dastardly manner, robbing you of your virtue.’
‘I seem to recall it was by mutual consent,’ Lorne generously reminded him.
He grinned wryly. ‘That is extremely charitable of you, my sweet. You have a tender way of touching a man’s heart, but I take full blame for what happened. With my vast experience of women I should have known you had never made love before. It isn’t often I feel ashamed of my actions, but now I do. I have callously coerced you into surrendering your innocence. The sickening truth is that one day I took you as my hostage, and the next I lusted after you like a rutting beast, with no intention of using decent restraint. My campaign to have you in my bed began from that moment. It was inevitable and only a matter of time—made easier because I believed your maidenhood was no longer intact—and tonight I have achieved my disgusting goal.’
‘And if you could undo what you have done—would you?’
‘No,’ he replied without any hesitation. ‘But what of you? Do you regret what happened?’
‘I should, shouldn’t I? I should despise myself for it. Any self-respecting woman would.’
‘And you don’t?
‘No,’ she whispered, feeling a little shy and self-conscious in admitting it. ‘If I had told you I was a virgin, would you still have made love to me?’
He smiled with gentle charm as he pondered her expression. ‘No,’ he replied at length. ‘I would have avoided you like a thousand plagues, but that would not have stopped me wanting you.’ Now, her innocence only made her more desirable to Iain. He gazed down at her lovely, apprehensive face and intoxicating green eyes, unconsciously memorising her lovely features so that he would remember how she looked when she was no longer with him. Bending his head, he touched her lips with a soft kiss, feeling her body quicken beneath his, and in that moment he realised that sending her away, as he must, was going to be the hardest thing in his life.
Lorne lifted her trembling fingers and gently traced his cheek. ‘I’m sorry I slapped you,’ she whispered with genuine remorse.
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