by Sabrina York
He was much better at this than she was.
It was only fair to admit it.
A pity words were beyond her at the moment because just then, he thrust in deep and hit that spot, sending glorious lights shimmering through her.
She set her feet on the bed and pressed up into him as his pace increased. His breath washed her face in hard, hot pants. His body scraped hers in all the tender spots. He filled her again and again with an increasing frenzy, one she met and matched. Her passion rose and rose as he moved over her and in her.
When the tension became unbearable, when she wept and begged and cursed at him, he reached between them and thumbed that bundle of nerves at the crux of her thighs until she began to shiver and shake.
It was clear he was holding back his pleasure, waiting for her, because when she began to tumble, he breathed a great sigh of relief. “Ah, Kate,” he whispered as he thrust deep, filling her, fulfilling her, and transforming her.
A rushing tide filled her ears as magnificence swamped her. Heat swelled in her belly and her heart was imbued with peace.
For a timeless moment, with him in her arms, their breath commingled, and their bodies combined, she soared.
As they recovered, she gloried in the weight of his body on hers, which made her feel safe, protected, and adored. It was a feeling she’d never had before.
He had offered her a whip. Invited her to beat him. She nearly laughed at the memory, it was so absurd. But there had been more to it than that. He had sworn never to hurt her. Sworn there would be no violence between them.
He had allowed her to have her way with him, even though it caused him pain. It spoke volumes about his character. Could it be that she had, in a world of savage warriors, found herself a gentleman?
It was a frightening thought, because she could come to love such a man if she allowed it.
Amid these thoughts, Kirk pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. “Ah, Kate,” he breathed. “That was splendid.”
“Even the part where I dinna know what I was doing?” She meant it as a joke, but when he glanced at her, his expression was resolute.
“Och, you shall learn.”
“Shall I?”
He tugged her closer. “I shall be diligent in teaching you. Will you be a diligent student?”
“I hope so.”
They shared a smile and it was a new and wonderful thing.
“I’m sorry you were forced into marrying me, wee Kate,” he said. “I vow to do my best to make you happy.”
“I’m sorry you were forced into marrying me,” she responded with a sigh, then she cuddled closer to his warmth.
He laughed into her hair. “I was forced into nothing.”
She leaned up on her elbow and frowned at him. “Of course you were. We both were.”
But he shook his head and cupped her cheek. Then he leaned up and kissed her, slowly. “Nae, sweet Kate. I wanted you all along. Even when I thought you were a maid.”
Which was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her.
She had to kiss him then.
Which quickly led to more.
And this time, neither had to restrain themselves at all.
Chapter 19
Elise and Kate strolled through the gardens the following morning. While they were alone, there were servants about, tending the flowers and trees.
Kate linked arms with her sister and nibbled away her smile. “Do you think it’s possible that all men aren’t like our brothers?” She spoke with a casual, musing tone, but beneath it, she had a serious hope.
Her sister shrugged. “Now that we’ve been here, I think it is possible that there are men who value their womenfolk. Frankly, I don’t see how the human race could have survived if all men were like our brothers. Do you?”
It was an interesting query. “No. I do no’. Do you think I was a fool for suspecting Kirk of being a beast?”
Elise laughed out loud. “Absolutely no’. For one thing, consider the men we’ve lived with until now. And for another, while I doona believe all men are wicked, I believe many are. It only made sense to protect yourself until you discovered the truth.”
“Do you think I have? Discovered the truth about Kirk?” God, she hoped she had.
Her sister squeezed her hand. “What does your heart tell you?”
Her heart?
Her heart was unreliable. It pounded when he was near and ached when he wasn’t. But if she peered down, deep into the seat of her soul, she knew. She saw him. The man she had married. The man she couldn’t resist.
The man she trusted.
The man she, most likely, loved.
He was heartbreakingly noble, valiant, and sweet. She enjoyed being with him. She wanted to spend her life in his arms and that was what he wanted, too.
It was all too perfect for words.
Maybe there was something wrong with her, because she couldn’t help wondering when everything would go back to normal again.
And the thought terrified her.
Kirk sat at the trestle table in the great hall, letting the conversation between Ben and Paden wash over him. He pretended to pay attention, but was scanning the enormous chamber and the foyer for a glimpse of her.
After they’d made love this morning, he’d fallen asleep, and when he’d woken up, Kate was gone. His bed was empty.
The ache at her absence had been immediate. He dressed quickly and set off to find her.
But Ben and Paden had found him instead and called him over, peppering him with questions about his wedding night. He’d refused to answer most of them. Kirk thanked the Lord when their conversation had moved on to the hunting trip they were planning.
Apparently the duke was an avid hunter, and he had insisted they plan an outing since the woods around Rannoch were rich with deer, pheasants, and wild hogs. How odd that Kirk felt little enthusiasm for the prospect. He’d much rather be tracking very different prey.
His heart lurched as a red-haired woman stepped through the great doors, but then it sank as she turned and he realized it wasn’t Kate. Perhaps he should excuse himself and go look for her—
“Laird Tummel,” Ben said, standing to greet Kate’s grandfather, who had entered the hall.
Kirk’s desire to run swelled. Especially when Calder Sabin fixed him with a sharp glower. He stood as well and affected a quick bow. “Laird Tummel.”
“Sit,” the old man barked.
Kirk sat.
To his horror, Laird Tummel sat next to him. “We need to have a talk, the two of us,” he said.
“Would you like us to give you privacy?” Ben asked. Kirk glared at him. The last thing he wanted was to be alone with an enemy who had very good reason to gut him.
“Nae,” Calder said in a grizzled snort. “I want witnesses.”
Hell. That did not bode well.
Laird Tummel cleared his throat and hacked up some phlegm in preparation of his pronouncement. When he spoke, it was in a dark, ominous tone. “I doona know what happened between you and my granddaughter—” He held up a hand as Kirk tried to respond. “And I doona want to know. But I will make you this promise. If you hurt my wee lass, I will have you drawn and quartered. Are we clear?”
“Aye, Laird Tummel.” What else could he say? “But I have no intention of hurting Kate. I love her.”
Paden’s jaw dropped.
Ben’s eyes widened. “You…love her?”
“Aye.” He spoke to them all. “She is verra dear to me.”
“Then you dinna mind being forced to wed?” Ben asked. Was that relief in his brother’s voice?
“No’ at all. Though she was resistant.”
Calder Sabin growled.
“I believe we, ahem, came to an understanding, sir,” he quickly assured the old bear.
To which Calder Sabin growled again. “I shall no’ be relieved until I speak with her.”
“Fair enough.”
They stared at each other for a long, unc
omfortable moment and then at long last, Calder nodded and turned his attention to the duke. He had just come down the stairs and was heading for the table. “Good morning, all. Good morning, all,” His Grace said, adjusting his cuffs, though they required no adjusting. The duke was turned out in the highest state of London fashion. Which made him very out of place in their drafty Scottish castle. He did not seem to notice or care.
A servant rushed forward with a breakfast plate and the duke picked up his knife and fork, preparing to tuck in. His gaze fell on Kirk and he stilled. “And how are you this morning?” he asked.
“Quite well, Your Grace,” Kirk responded. He’d never been addressed by a duke before.
“I see you survived the wedding night.”
“Aye, Your Grace.”
The duke took a sip of ale and gusted a sigh. He waggled his knife at Paden Tremaine. “You’re next, my man,” he said with a smile.
Paden paled and said, “Aye, Your Grace.”
Kirk stared at his friend, who was looking slightly ill. “And who are you marrying?” he asked. He had to.
“His Grace has generously betrothed me to his cousin,” Paden said, forcing something that resembled a smile.
The duke, amid another bite, nodded. “Elizabeth. She is a fine woman. The two of you will make a strong match.”
“Aye.” Paden’s smile became more of a grimace. “She’s English.”
The Scots at the table exchanged woeful glances. Fortunately, the duke seemed oblivious. “Yes. She is a diamond, I tell you.”
“What I fail to understand,” Paden said in as casual a tone as he could muster, “is why she desires to move to Scotland.” And marry a Scot. This last bit was unspoken, but then, there was no need for the words. It was hardly a secret that English nobility saw a union with a Scot as a step down on the social ladder.
For some reason, this question made the duke still. He set down his implements and dabbed at his lips with the serviette. “You might as well know,” he said in a sigh, “as she’s to be your bride, Tremaine.”
Paden’s expression tightened. “Know…what?”
“The truth about Elizabeth.”
Ach. Poor Paden. Was his bride unattractive? Was she a virago? Did she have a lisp?
Kirk frowned on his friend’s behalf. Paden stared at the duke, awaiting his sentence like a man on the chopping block.
“She is the granddaughter of James the Fifth.”
Jaws dropped round the table.
“Through his illegitimate daughter Margaret Stewart.” The duke nodded and took another bite. “It only seems wise to get her out of England.” The Stewarts still had many enemies in England.
“And marry her to a Scottish earl,” Paden said in a doleful voice.
“Cheer up now,” the duke said breezily. “She’s a lovely girl. Absolutely lovely.”
“Aye,” Paden said, but his attention had wandered from the table to the doorway, where a burst of activity erupted as three laughing women entered the hall. Kirk only saw the flash of pain in his friend’s eye because he’d been watching the earl closely.
Paden’s gaze locked on Heather. Ah. Hardly a surprise. Kirk had suspected for years that Paden had a secret tendre for his sister. And now, the earl was to marry another at the duke’s command.
Shame.
Kirk couldn’t stop that flash of guilt that his marriage had turned out so wonderfully, but his sorrow for his friend was washed away as he spotted Kate. His heart clattered in his chest. He stood with his eyes on no one but her.
She spotted him and her smile broadened. A flush rose on her cheeks.
Silently, they moved toward each other and met in the middle of the hall.
He took her hands in his and whispered, “I’ve missed you.”
Her laugh was like a melody. “I only went for a walk in the garden,” she said teasingly.
“I doona care. I missed you.” He kissed one hand and then the other. “Did you miss me?”
“I think perhaps I did.” She grinned once more.
“Perhaps?” he growled.
“I thought about you,” she said, peeping at him from beneath her lashes. “Does that count?”
“It does.”
“Oh, really.” A voice, dripping with sarcasm, captured his attention, and he realized Elise was standing by Kate’s side and rolling her eyes. Had she not spoken, he would have been oblivious to her presence. “Must you be so…” Elise waved her hand in an illustrative gesture—one that illustrated nothing really.
“So…what?” Kirk asked.
“So…that.” Elise wrinkled her nose.
“We canna help it,” Kate said, hooking her arm in Kirk’s and leading him back to the table. “We’re happy.”
“Are we?”
Kate frowned at him. “I’m happy. Are you no’?”
“Och, I’m happy as well.”
“Then we are happy,” Kate reported to Elise with a brilliant smile, one that caused Calder Sabin’s brittle expression to soften.
“I am so pleased everyone is so happy,” the duke said in a sardonic tone as he stood and tugged down his vest. “I would be happy indeed if we could get this hunting party under way. What do you say, gentlemen? Shall we tallyho?”
To Kirk’s chagrin, the duke said this to him, making it clear he was expected to attend the hunt. Which was a horrible thing, because he’d finally found Kate and had very different plans for the afternoon.
Damn. Damn and blast.
Chapter 20
“How annoying men are,” Heather said as she watched the men ride out to the sounds of horns and baying hounds.
Kate sighed. “Is it wrong to hope they don’t catch anything?”
Both Heather and Elise shot her stunned glances. “They won’t be pleased if they don’t catch anything,” Heather said. “And then they shall go out tomorrow and do it all again.”
“I suppose. But those poor animals.”
“We have to eat,” Elise reminded her.
“I know, but I would be happy with fish.”
“The fish would not be pleased,” Heather said with a laugh.
“But fish are no’ furry. They doona have big brown eyes. No one feels sorry for a fish.”
Elise chuckled and wrapped her arm around Kate’s shoulder. “Don’t mind her, Heather. She’s only maudlin because the duke stole her groom.”
“The duke did steal my groom,” Kate said in an outraged tone that was only partly in jest.
Heather put out a lip. “Dukes are exceedingly annoying.”
Elise snorted. “Aye, they are. But the men are gone. What shall we do today?”
“How about a tour of the village?” Heather suggested. “You should become familiar of your new home, Kate.”
“That sounds lovely,” Kate said with a sincere smile. This was her new home.
And thus, they had a lovely day, strolling through the charming village at the bottom of the hill. Kate met the blacksmith, the apothecary, the barbers, fletchers, coopers, and swineherds. Some of the crofters and their wives had come to town to sell their wares and Kate had the chance to meet them all, as well.
Most of them were very kind, but a few of them gave her a leery eye when Heather introduced her as a Killin. Kate knew it would take time to win them over, but was certain she could.
They were heading across the lea to pick blackberries when a coterie of horsemen burst from the woods and made their way toward them.
At first, Kate thought it was the hunting party, coming back, but the moment she saw the lead rider, her stomach plunged.
Horror swamped her and she yelled, through tight lips, “Run!”
Because the men bearing down on them were not Rannochs.
They were Killin men.
And their intention was clear.
They wanted their women back.
There were few things Kirk enjoyed more than a good hunt, but today was different. The conversations between the duke and the earl annoyed
him, the baying of the hounds make his head thump, and the game was not cooperating.
All he could think about was his bride. The feel of her lips as he kissed her. The delirious perfume at the crook of her neck. The light in her eyes as she closed around him and came. He didn’t want to be riding through the woods searching for a red stag. He wanted to be in bed. With her. Making little Rannochs.
When he cried off early and headed back to the castle, no one seemed surprised. In fact, Ben and Laird Tummel chuckled beneath their breath, but Kirk ignored them both.
Once at the castle, he dismounted. Michael, one of the crofters, ran into the bailey, wheezing. He waved wildly to Kirk, then he braced his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath.
Michael was a man brought quickly to a dither, so Kirk was not terribly alarmed, until those horrible, labored words passed his lips. “They’ve taken them,” he huffed. “The women. Your sister. Your bride. The other one.”
Shite.
“Who took them?” Kirk asked as he re-mounted his horse.
“They wore no colors, but I recognized Connor Killin.”
Bluidy hell.
“Where?”
“I saw them heading up the hill, on the road to Pitlochry. The lasses were screaming bluidy murder.”
As they should.
Kirk wheeled his horse and barked, “Michael, take some men and inform the laird what’s happened. I’m going after them.”
Damn Connor Killin and his damned Killin clan. How dare they? How dare they come onto Rannoch land and accost his bride?
Kirk dodged chickens and pigs as he pounded out of the bailey and flew up the road. He was pretty certain Connor wouldn’t hurt Kate, but he couldn’t be sure. And Killin had stolen his sister, as well.
God only knew what he had in mind for them.
Sweat beaded on his brow, despite the breeze caused by his furious ride. His muscles bunched. His teeth ground together. He narrowed his focus on the road with one thought and one thought only.
Rescue his woman.
And his sister, of course.
And Elise.
It didn’t take long for him to catch up to the raiding party, and when he saw them on the road ahead, a sharp blade of satisfaction speared him. He was going to take care of Connor Killin once and for all, the mewling bastard. He’d gut him from stem to stern. And he’d enjoy the doing of it.
