by Terry Spear
Luthais shared a smile with Sorcha as he felt bile rise in the back of his throat. All eyes were on him. He needed to do something fast. Until he could figure out what the hell this was about, he had to play along with another bad situation he’d gotten himself into or they’d all be warring in the great hall. Sorcha lifted her hand, and with no choice, he kissed the top of it just as he saw Mistress Gunn—Ceana—walk away out of the corner of his eye.
“ʼTis a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He felt the air in the great hall lighten when he acknowledged his true betrothed and knew he had to get out of there. He turned to her father. “Laird Gunn, if ye’ll pray excuse us, we have another important matter to attend to.”
“Of course. I’ll make certain everything is in order here so that ye and my daughter can be wed within the fortnight.”
Luthais nodded. “Verra well. And Mistress Gunn…until we meet again.”
“Mayhap ye can pay me another visit before the wedding? I’d love to see ye again.”
He gave her an appeasing smile and walked briskly toward Doughall. He hoped his father followed because he wasn’t waiting for him to catch up. Luthais was breathless with rage. His expression was thunderous. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears. He entered the bailey throwing curses under his breath like stones. He raked his fingers through his hair as the stable hand brought their mounts. Thankfully, his father and Doughall were wise enough not to open their mouths.
The men mounted and rode through the gates, their horses flinging mud behind them from the rain. It wasn’t long before Luthais once again found himself flanked.
“What the hell was that all about? Ye said ye already met the Gunn’s daughter,” said his father.
“The woman wasnae the same lass Luthais had met,” said Doughall.
His father’s voice went up a notch. “What do ye mean she wasnae the same lass?”
“She wasnae the same lass!” Luthais bellowed. “I’ve been played for a damn fool.”
“I think we should—”
Luthais shot his father a cold look. “We will do naught. I donna want to hear another word. I will handle this mess.”
He had no idea how, but he had a pretty good idea where to start.
***
Ceana stood in her bedchamber and held her mother’s pendant close to her heart. Dear God. How could she not have known Luthais was the MacKay’s son? This whole time she assumed he was a guard. The nagging in her mind refused to be stilled. She thought back to their conversations and realized he’d never told her. He had only mentioned his name.
A tumble of confused feelings assailed her. Her emotions were out of control. If it wasn’t bad enough that Sorcha reveled in being the laird’s daughter and having made an alliance with the MacKays, now Ceana had to live with the fact that the man who’d kissed her and stirred her soul was marrying her dreadful cousin. This was too much. She couldn’t bear anymore.
The door swung open, and Anna entered. Ceana couldn’t calm her racing heart. She couldn’t catch her breath. The last she remembered was falling into her sister’s arms and hitting the floor with a thud.
Fingers tapped Ceana’s face as she tried to open her eyes. “Ceana, wake up! Ceana!”
“I’m awake. What happened?” She held her hand to her head.
“Ye had a fainting spell. Let me help ye to the bed.” Her sister pulled her to her feet, and Ceana sat on the edge of the bed.
“I’m fine.”
“Ye’re nae fine. Lie down before ye fall over again.” Anna picked up the pendant on the floor and placed it back in the box on Ceana’s dresser. Her sister sat beside her on the bed and sighed. “I can remember a conversation between us nae all that long ago. Ye were cross at me for nae telling ye about Samuel. How is it that ye know Laird MacKay’s son? And before ye answer, I’d think twice about spinning tales to me.”
Ceana growled. “Samuel gave his word.”
“Samuel didnae tell me anything. Ye’re my sister. I know ye, and ye knew that man.”
“I met Luthais at the standing stones.”
Anna’s eyes lit up in surprise. “Ye went to the standing stones? I’ve been trying to convince Samuel to take me.”
“I know. He told me all about it. I wasnae there to find a husband, if that’s what ye’re thinking.”
“I didnae think that ye were.”
Ceana rubbed the palm of her hands over her eyes. “The next day Luthais appeared at the loch and we talked.”
“Please tell me ye still have your virtue.”
When Ceana realized her sister was throwing her own words back at her, she gave a small smile. “I still have my virtue. One of his hawks pecked me and—”
“The man has hawks? The ones that fly over our home are his?”
“Anna, the truth of the matter is that I thought he was a MacKay guard, and he must’ve thought I was Uncle John’s daughter.”
“Why would ye tell him that?”
“I didnae tell him that.”
“Oh, Ceana. This is a fine mess ye’ve created. What are ye going to do? Are ye in love with him?”
Ceana lifted a brow. “Love? We shared a kiss, but I barely know him. I did favor the brief time that I spent with him, but—”
“There is nay ‘but.’ I know he felt the same because I saw the look on his face when he found out ye werenae the woman he thought ye were. Ye more than likely donna want to hear my opinion, but it didnae take long for me to realize how much I loved Samuel. If ye care or have any feelings for Luthais, ye cannae let Sorcha have him. Ye cannae let her win again.”
Anna continued. “Our uncle, aunt, and cousin have taken everything away from us. We have naught else to lose. We are Gunns. Our parents raised us well. We will nae be defeated again. Go to him. The man gazed at ye with the same look in his eye that Samuel does when he looks at me. When I saw Luthais in the bailey with his father and that verra large guard, he was distraught. I promise ye that he shares your feelings. Tell him everything and give yourself a chance at happiness…for both our sakes.”
Chapter 8
The misery of the night didn’t let up and haunted Luthais to the point of madness. He felt trapped. He was suffocating on his own stupidity. His feelings were too raw to discuss with his father or Doughall. He’d formed an alliance with the Gunns based on being besotted with a woman who’d played him for a fool. His clan’s future was now in his hands. If he reneged on his marriage to the true laird’s daughter, not only would the Gunns and MacKays be warring clans again, but the tension would mount between them like wildfire.
Luthais sat with his back against his favorite standing stone and rubbed his hands over his face. He could not stop himself from pondering the simplest question. Why? Why would the lass tell him she was the laird’s daughter? What could she have gained? He even remembered questioning her about the number of suitors lining up at the gates. He couldn’t get over the fact that she’d blatantly lied to him.
The sky was cloudy and dark with no stars in sight. As the torchlight illuminated the stones with an eerie glow, he felt something watching him, waiting in the shadows. He took another swig of whisky and then raised his arms in the air.
“Trobhadaidh.” Come. Two of his birds landed on his leather-strapped shoulders and Mac na Diobhail on the leather sleeve of his arm.
For a moment, Luthais paused. He thought he’d indeed gone mad. Mac na Diobhail looked like the Devil incarnate. A long tongue hung out of his bird’s beak. Luthais swallowed hard, wondering if he’d opened some type of supernatural connection with his foul mood. He lifted his arm toward the light and breathed a sigh of relief when his hawk spit out what was left of a mouse.
“Mister MacKay…”
He gazed in the center of the standing stones, and there was Mistress Gunn—Ceana—looking ethereal in the dim light. The lace at her slender throat parted, and the hollow of her neck was filled with soft shadows.
“Ah, Mistress Gunn… To what do I owe the pleasur
e?” he asked with bitterness. His eyes clawed her like talons.
“May I speak with ye? Please.” Her tone was soft.
As if on cue, Mac na Diobhail let out a scolding call. “Dèan às!” Be gone! His birds flew onto the tree branch above, but not before Mac na Diobhail picked up what was left of his meal from the ground. “I donna think it wise for ye to be here.” When she stepped around the torch, he shot her a withering glance. “I wouldnae get too close.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Luthais actually meant “close to the fire” but had no desire to correct what she thought. Perhaps that’s what had gotten him into all this trouble in the first place. She sat beside him, and the scent of lavender invaded his senses.
“I need to explain, and I wish for ye to hear me out.”
He shook his head at her audacity in coming here to try to give a reason for why she’d lied in the first place. He took another sip of whisky and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He couldn’t help it when he chuckled nastily. “What good would that do me now, eh? Believe me, I donna need to hear any more of your words. I’ve heard enough.”
“Mister MacK…er, Luthais, in my defense, I ne’er knew ye were Laird MacKay’s son. I thought ye were a guard, the same as the giant man with the red hair.”
“I want to know why ye told me ye were the laird’s daughter.” He spoke between clenched teeth and she gazed down, fingering her cloak with a nervous gesture.
“I ne’er said that I was. What I told ye at the loch was that ye’d better take your leave before my father’s men came and found ye.” When he looked at her like he didn’t believe a word she said, the lass continued. “My father was laird. He was killed two years ago, along with my mother. Men attacked their coach on the road, robbing my parents and leaving them for dead.”
Although it took an inordinate amount of strength not reach out and throttle Ceana, he felt a moment of sympathy for her. They shared a common bond. “Please accept my apologies for the loss of your parents. My mother passed as well and some days ʼtis difficult without her, but that still doesnae make this situation even close to being better.”
She reached out to touch him and then, as if she had second thoughts, withdrew her hand. “After my parents passed, Uncle John, Father’s brother, became laird. He wasted nay time removing all of my parents’ belongings, even taking down my father’s portrait from the wall.” Tears fell down her cheeks, and Luthais resisted the urge to wipe them.
“The manner in which my uncle banished all the memories of my parents was as if they’d ne’er existed. My sire was such a caring laird, a doting husband, and a loving father. I cannae say the same for my uncle. For the past two years, he’s ne’er wanted—nor has he felt the need—to worry or concern himself about Anna, my sister, or me. ʼTwas if we were being punished because our parents died and left us behind.”
As if Ceana realized she’d wandered far from the path of the conversation long ago, she shook her head. “When ye found me here at the stones, I thought ye were a guard chasing me off MacKay lands. Then when ye told me your name was Luthais MacKay, I thought the same.”
This time she reached out, and the touch of her hand was almost unbearable in its tenderness. He grasped her fingers and couldn’t find the strength to pull away, even though he knew he should. He rubbed his thumb gently back and forth.
“The truth is, Luthais MacKay, I didnae care then and I donna care now if ye are the laird’s son or a MacKay guard. I favor ye, and I ne’er meant for any of this to happen. I seem to have a way about me where everything in my life goes awry.”
He almost laughed at the irony.
“My uncle has taken everything away that I hold dear. I want ye to know that I’ve ne’er kissed—nor have I ever been with—another man. I need ye to understand that I—”
“God’s teeth, Ceana! Do ye think I want to wed your cousin? I wanted to wed ye! I have been placed in a horrible predicament. I will be laird of the MacKays one day. I have to think of the best interests of my clan and nae look at what I want or what I desire to have. An alliance between the Gunns and the MacKays would—”
She placed her fingers to his lips. “Luthais,” she said, giving him a gentle smile. “My father was a great man. He always looked after our clan. I am aware of the responsibilities of a Highland laird. I also recognize that this entire situation is of my own doing.” She paused. “I donna like it at all, but I know ye have to wed my cousin.” She wept aloud. “But it breaks my heart at the thought of losing ye.”
***
In one forward motion, Luthais pulled Ceana into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. His tongue traced the soft fullness of her lips and then explored her mouth. He shifted and kissed the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat as blood coursed through her veins.
Ceana became instantly awake.
His arms encircled her, one hand at the small of her back. She could feel his uneven breathing on her cheek as he held her close. The warmth of his arms was so male, so bracing. His mouth was warm and sweet on hers. The mere touch of his hand sent a warming shiver through her, and she tingled from the contact. She felt transported on a soft and wispy cloud.
His demanding lips caressed her, and his slow, drugging kisses were driving her mad. With his tongue, he ravished her mouth. He released her briefly, only enough to breathe, and then repeated his ritual. Raising his mouth from hers, he gazed into her eyes.
“If we donna stop now, I cannae be responsible for my actions. I will take your virtue and ruin ye for any other man.”
She placed her forehead to his, panting. “I was ruined for any other man the day that I met ye, Luthais MacKay.”
He slid her day dress off her shoulders and down her arms, so that she lay bare beneath his sultry glance. Then he tugged off his tunic and hastily tossed it aside.
Ceana gasped as bare skin met bare skin and she felt her breasts crush against the hardness of his chest.
Luthais picked up a lock of her hair and caressed it gently. “Ye are so verra bonny.”
When he lightly kneaded her breasts with his rough fingers and teased her nipples into hard, aching points, her mind was robbed of any coherent words. He lowered his head and kissed her taut buds, rousing a melted sweetness within her. She found it difficult to remain still when he suckled the tips of her breasts.
There was a heated swelling between her legs, a moistness she did not understand.
When he slid his hand over her trembling stomach and then between her legs, she froze. He kissed her again and, with a few skillful strokes of his fingers, alleviated her shock at how personally he was touching her. His finger thrust inside her, imitating the movement of his tongue in her mouth.
He felt so strong against her body that she was completely enthralled by his masculinity. The possessiveness of his touch did not lessen her awareness of the man in her arms. In truth, she sensed a sudden secureness, protectiveness, coming from him. Is this what it would’ve meant to be husband and wife? Her mind was so cluttered with thoughts that she wasn’t exactly sure what she was experiencing.
Luthais’s body moved to partially cover hers, his hands lifting her skirts above her hips. He reached down and loosened his kilt while he continued to drug her with passionate kisses. She was more than a little nervous, but he continued to distract her in pleasant ways.
He eased himself inside her and, with one quick thrust, made her his.
Ceana gasped as he held himself up on his forearms, fighting to remain still. His body shook with strain, and sweat beaded on his forehead. When she moved beneath him, he pressed his head to hers.
“God, lass. I’m trying nae to hurt ye. Please donna move. Ye’re going to unman me.”
She wasn’t sure what she was doing wrong, but he grasped her by the calves and gently pushed her legs up until her knees were bent. When he pressed deeper within her, she clamped her eyes shut and not from the pain.
He reached down and rubbed her most sensi
tive spot. Their bodies were in exquisite harmony with one another. A hunger inched through her veins, rousing her to the peak of desire. She wanted to yield to the burning sweetness that was captive within her.
The passion of his ardor mounted, and she finally abandoned herself to the whirl of sensations. Love flowed into her like warm, molten honey, shattering her into a million glowing stars.
***
Sorcha Gunn knocked on her cousin’s bedchamber door. She hesitated and then rapped again. Then, raising the latch, she took a peek inside. When she saw the room was dark, she said a silent prayer of thanks. She entered, closing the door behind her, and hastily made her way to the other side of the bed. If she was caught, there would be no escaping punishment for her actions this time. Lifting the feather mattress, she pulled out her cousin’s journal and walked to the desk. She would never have found the book if she hadn’t been searching for the dress she thought her cousin had stolen.
She fumbled for the candle and, once it was lit, flipped through the pages of the journal toward the end. Ceana thought she was clever, but Sorcha knew her cousin was nothing but simpleminded. Ceana and Sorcha’s new betrothed may have fooled everyone in the great hall, but Sorcha knew the two of them had known each other. A blind idiot could see that. She only needed proof, and then she’d demand that her cousins be sent away. She didn’t give a damn where. Quickly scanning the pages of her cousin’s journal, Sorcha’s eyes froze on a passage.
There it was.
Her daft cousin had written her thoughts in print. Not only was Ceana acquainted with Luthais MacKay, but they’d even shared a kiss. This was all the evidence Sorcha needed to get rid of her nemesis once and for all. She blew out the candle and carried the journal as if it were a sacred text. Making her way through the halls of the castle, she smiled as she passed her father’s portrait. She would always be her father’s daughter.
Sorcha was about to knock on her father’s study door when raised voices came from within. Needing a private moment with her father, she didn’t want to interrupt him and then have to explain why she was there in front of someone else. She placed her ear to the door, hoping the person inside was her mother.
