by Laura Glenn
“You need to eat, lass.”
She almost groaned out loud as Rathe straddled the bench beside her. Why didn’t he just leave her alone?
He slid toward her until she was in between his thighs and her stomach flipped. She didn’t dare to move, her nipples already puckering in anticipation at his mere presence. Damn it, she was such a fool.
“Eat,” he commanded in her ear. “I need you to keep up your strength.”
Shivers coursed down her spine, pooling between her thighs. She took a deep breath in an effort to control her burgeoning arousal at his mere presence and bit into one of the savory pies.
An awkward silence stretched between them. As her stomach filled to capacity, she licked the tips of her fingers. Would it be such a bad thing to introduce napkins a few centuries earlier? Using a random piece of bread or her own clothing like everyone else did was just too weird.
He groaned into her ear. “Mmm, lass, are you trying to seduce me?”
Her face heated. “No.”
But it was too late. The images were already assaulting her. What he might taste like if she ran her tongue across his flesh, skipping across the muscular contours of his hard stomach and down to his silken cock. How weighty would it feel on her tongue?
His chuckle reverberated through her skin. Her control was slipping away again with his intoxicating nearness.
“I should have told you my plans, Leah. I am sorry to have sprung this upon you. But I could not let that old man have you.” His voice was deep and rough.
Old man? Did he mean this Dunlop guy she was going to marry first?
“I could not stand the thought of his hands on you, lass. Nor anyone’s but my own. And he cannot protect you from the MacTavish. Rest assured had you married Dunlop, you would have fallen prey to him.”
Leah twisted her fingers into her skirt, staring at the trencher before her. “The MacTavish? The man you just fought?”
“Yes, but you do not have to worry about him as long as you are with me.”
She shrugged in feigned disinterest. “He seemed nice enough.”
The air between them crackled with tension as he stiffened against her. “You are trying to anger me.”
Startled by the strangeness of his tone, she turned her gaze to him. “I am not. I just don’t understand why you’re acting like you want me. You don’t want a wife, remember? You told me yourself you didn’t want to marry. Is the land really worth all of this?”
“I need a son.”
Her skin chilled. “What?”
“When was your last monthly?”
Monthly? What the hell was he talking…oh God. Her eyes widened in alarm and she turned away. “That’s personal.”
“Not any longer. I need to know you are not bringing another man’s child into our marriage.”
Her face fell into her hands and she massaged her throbbing temples. She was not having this conversation. She couldn’t be. Not even Simon knew the slightest thing about her cycles and they’d lived together for four years.
He yanked one of her hands away from her face. “Answer me.”
Hysteria uncoiled within her belly, clashing with the deep, primitive lust tingling through her skin at his nearness. “Four days ago. It ended four days ago.”
“And you have had no other man in that time?”
Anger swept through her in a heated rush. “No,” she hissed, tears of humiliation burning her eyes as she wrenched her wrist out of his grasp.
“Only me?”
“Why are you acting like this? Are you trying to punish me for wanting to go home?”
Concern touched his brow and he leaned in, whisking away the errant tear which had escaped one of her eyes with his thumb. She gasped and jumped back.
“I only want to be sure what is mine is mine,” he explained, his tone a curious mixture of gentleness and possessiveness. “You promised to stay with me as my wife for the next year. You do not think you could possibly bear a child within that time?”
Leah’s lips parted as though to speak but nothing came out. God help her, but he was right. Just what was she supposed to do now? Refuse him? Even now her skin prickled at the thought of his warm lips dropping to her neck. His skilled tongue swirling around each nipple. His thick cock plunging into her. She wanted him.
And now she had gone and married the man, ensuring they would be spending much more time together. She didn’t want to say “no” to him. She wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to lie beneath him and be warmed by his hard, roped body.
Rathe leaned back. “It is time, lass.”
“For what?”
“You know very well. My men will escort you up to your chamber.”
His men? She whipped around and came face-to-face with two tall, very broad-shouldered men standing only a few feet away. With a flick of Rathe’s head, the men moved forward and looked down at Leah.
She shook her head as she turned back to Rathe. She needed more time. Time to formulate a plan to get out of this mess. Or to douse her ardor for the wickedly hot guy determined to impregnate her.
Now there’s a thought she’d never have guessed she’d have. How had she gone from such a boring, predictable existence to this?
“No, please. I’m not ready for this. I need time to think.”
Rathe flashed her a rakish smile and leaned forward, squeezing her leg with his massive hand. His fingers pressed between her thighs, grazing her pussy, and he brushed his lips against her ear. “My guess is you are ready right now.”
His hot breath snaked around her ear, drawing her toward him, but he pulled away. She bit her lower lip and squeezed her eyes shut, cursing him just as she wished he’d carry her upstairs himself.
He offered her his hand. “Come now, lass. I have no problem ordering them to carry you, but I am sure you would rather avoid making a scene.”
“Then why not let me go on my own? Why assign guards to me?”
“I will not take the chance the MacTavish would come after you.”
A bit of her anger evaporated at his cryptic answer. She hesitated, allowing her eyes to trace the finely wrought contours of his hand as it stretched toward her. “Why would he come after me?” Her arm shook as she placed her hand in his.
His warm fingers closed around hers as he stood and assisted her to her feet. Leaning toward her ear, he whispered, “He wants you. I could see it in his eyes. Moreover, he hates me—especially now.”
From out of nowhere, in a voice that seemed not her own, she whispered, “I’d rather you wanted me.”
Stunned by her own words, she whipped away from him, yanking her hand out of his as though it were a hot coal. Picking up her skirts, she strode toward the stairs, her cheeks on fire.
Lord, where was a good sinkhole when you needed one?
Chapter Ten
I’d rather you wanted me.
Rathe had heard Leah right, hadn’t he? How was there even a question of his desire for her? He’d pursued her, talked his way between her legs, and came back for more. What more proof did the woman want? He had been too stunned by her admission to prevent her quick escape, but from the horror on her face he guessed she was just as surprised by it as he was.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he ascended to the third floor and turned down the hall toward Leah’s chamber. His two men, Brodie and Ros, stood on either side of the door. Both grinned like idiots as he approached.
“Did she give you trouble?” Rathe attempted to glare the smiles off their faces.
It didn’t work. They’d been friends too long for Rathe to ever use his status as their laird to scare them into silent obedience. The fraternal twin brothers had been the first to welcome Rathe into his father’s clan when he was brought home at the age of sixteen. Albeit with a swift uppercut to the jaw and a good kick to the abdomen. Rathe had deserved it though for propositioning their older sister after a couple of pints of ale.
“Just a wee bit.” Ros chuckled.
“Is s
he enamored with a Graham lad or something?” Brodie asked. “She kept begging us to take her back to Graham land.”
Rathe crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “No, she is just a stubborn wench who thinks to escape her fate.”
He shifted his eyes between the brothers, wanting to tell them everything. Both had been married for over ten years now and had about a dozen kids between them. Certainly they would have some thread of wisdom they could give him so he didn’t muck up this marriage. But now was not the time. And the mormaer’s castle was certainly not the place. It would be too easy for someone to overhear them.
“She will be a good one for you though,” Ros stated. “She has some spirit.”
“Even if it did take more than a bit of coaxing to get her to face the priest with you,” Brodie added with a snicker. “About time you met a woman not throwing herself at your feet.”
“Still jealous about the time in Edinburgh when the two daughters of the pub owner took me upstairs and left your sorry ass facedown in your ale cup, eh?” Rathe taunted.
Brodie glared at him and punched his brother in the chest as Ros started laughing.
Rathe grinned and smacked him on the shoulder as he opened the door. “By the way, Mary and Jane told me to tell you to ‘hello’ after I saw them last summer. Still a couple of very fine lasses.”
He slipped into Leah’s chamber and closed the door against Brodie’s growl of annoyance. He turned in to the room and his smile fell from his face as he met Leah’s rounded, fearful eyes peeking at him from the bed just above the blanket she had pulled up to her chin. Firelight glinted off her hair, giving it a warm, reddish glow.
His chest tightened. Here he was again—another wedding night. Though, unlike with his other wives, it wasn’t his first time with Leah. But this time seemed somehow different. More weighty. More meaningful.
At least he wasn’t dealing with an ignorant virgin. Just one very skittish but achingly beautiful woman.
The two young servants from the previous night stood from their stools by the fire. Each curtsied and murmured her greetings.
He approached them and stood with his back to the fire, facing Leah. The servants stepped forward, assisting him out of his clothing.
“Have there been any other men?” he asked in Gaelic. “Here, in your lady’s bed?”
The two young women gave each other puzzled looks and shook their heads.
“No, Laird Sinclair,” the doe-eyed brunette replied, careful to avert her eyes from his as she pulled his leine over his head. “We have been with my lady every night since she arrived, sleeping by the fire, except for last night. No other man has been here.”
Rathe nodded, satisfied. He held out his arms and the red-haired servant ran a warm, wet cloth across his bare skin to prepare him for his bride.
Damn it, why couldn’t she breathe?
Leah’s head spun. Firelight glowed around Rathe, giving him an otherworldly air as he was undressed by the two women who had done the same for her only a little while ago. He stood motionless, his eyes fixed on Leah.
She couldn’t look away. His body was still new and very much a curiosity for her. Broad shoulders, thick, well-defined muscles down his arms and legs. His torso narrowed to powerful, compact hips.
Leah’s lips parted and she gasped as Aisleen, the brunette, shielded Rathe’s cock with her hand as she shimmied his breeches down his hips. Aisleen’s cheeks pinked and she tore her hand away upon passing the waistband down to his thighs, but that didn’t stop a cloud of annoyance from setting upon Leah. With tensed shoulders, she glared at the back of Aisleen’s head.
Her heart contracted in a dull ache as she turned her eyes from Aisleen to Rathe. Had he enjoyed being touched by another woman in front of her? One corner of his mouth was turned up into a smirk, but he wasn’t paying any attention to Aisleen. His eyes heated as Leah stared at him.
Leah shrank backward, her cheeks burning in shame. What on earth was wrong with her? Was she really jealous another woman had touched Rathe?
Yes. Yes, she was.
She pressed her lips together. She was a horrible, rotten person. Aisleen had been nothing but sweet to her, despite their inability to communicate beyond a rudimentary level. And she had obviously been embarrassed by the whole situation as well. Not to mention the fact it wasn’t like Leah had any real feelings toward Rathe. She was just sowing some late wild oats, right? Even nerdy girls got to do something wild at least once in their lives.
Rathe murmured something to the women and they gathered his clothing, folding the various pieces and placing them upon a bench near the window. He crossed his arms, his biceps flexing against his chest and his feet apart, without the slightest hesitation or embarrassment he was naked in front of three women.
And partially erect. Leah’s skin heated and she tore her eyes away, her core pulsating.
Aisleen and Morna curtsied before Rathe, both casting their eyes to the floor without a single tilt of the head to suggest they had peeked at him at all and then turned toward Leah, curtseying once again.
Dread twisted inside Leah’s stomach as the women left the room. She swallowed hard, the weight of Rathe’s lustful stare settling upon her brow. She dropped her eyes to the blanket stretched across her lap.
God help her, but she reveled in the way he looked at her—as though she were the most desirable woman in the world. She should send him away. She should demand he respect her wishes and leave her alone. But she couldn’t. The fragility of her ego dulled her pride and prevented the words from forming on her tongue.
Could she go through with this and become a thirteenth-century warlord’s wife for the next year? And risk a potential pregnancy? Leah wanted a family more than anything, but the man was offering her an impossible choice. Stay with him during a violent time in history or leave her firstborn child with him and go home. She didn’t think she was capable of the latter and she wasn’t sure she could survive the former. And what if she was pregnant at the time of the next fall equinox? The seriousness with which he’d told her he needed a son was a clear indication he wouldn’t let her go at all, if that were the case.
The mattress sank next to Leah and she almost threw the blankets at him to jump out of bed. She took a deep, calming breath instead, shaking her head with certainty. No, she wasn’t ready for this. She hadn’t had enough time to think this through, to determine whether or not she could survive here or figure out a way of managing some type of birth control. Surely, some old midwife or herbal healer had a few tricks up her sleeve. She would need to do some research.
Rathe whispered her name and it fell like a caress against her cheek as he tugged the blanket out of her grasp. She did bolt then, but he threw his forearm around her waist, hauling her up against his chest and trapping his hardening cock between him and her backside.
“Uh-uh, lass.”
She whimpered, attempting in vain to push his arm away from her. “Rathe, please. This isn’t fair.”
“A lot of things are not fair, wife,” he murmured against her hair.
She gulped, alarmed by the quickening of her pulse and her body’s need to melt back into his heat at his use of that one word—wife. “You are asking the unthinkable of me.”
He laughed, trailing the back of his fingers down her arm. “You have spread your legs for me already and will again. It is not so unthinkable.”
She shook her head, her brow aching with frustration. “You are asking me to choose between home and a child.”
Rathe sighed. “You are thinking too much again. This child does not yet exist and you are already worrying.”
“But you expect me to leave it with you, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
The tension in Leah’s muscles reached a breaking point and it was all she could do to slump back against him, her spirit crushed. “You don’t know anything about me then.”
He held her in silence, his breath rippling against her cheek. His stonelike thighs cradl
ed her own, supporting her as his arm held her up, preventing her from crumpling in a mess of disconcerting emotions.
When he did move, it was to smooth his rough, calloused hand down her thigh. Soft and unhurried, the simple touch eased the ache in her heart.
He slid his fingers to her tender inner thigh. “Is it to be a chase again, lass? Or do I have your permission to take you now?”
Nipples puckering, she bit back a moan, her core moistening. He pulled her hair away from her neck and dropped his lips to her shoulder before slipping his hand deeper between her thighs. Her vision turned hazy and her head fell back onto his shoulder, her breaths quickening as his fingertips brushed against her folds.
“Might I remind you I have come inside you already?” He nipped her ear with his teeth. “I have already claimed you. You could be carrying my bairn as we speak.”
Those words. Those frightening, life-changing words. They delighted her far too much for her own good. What the hell was wrong with her? Shouldn’t she have more self-control than this? Shouldn’t the thought of giving birth to this stranger’s child be enough to tell him no in no uncertain terms?
But then her thighs parted. Just a little. And it was all the invitation he needed.
“Mmm, yes, my little doe.” He soothed the edge of her ear with his tongue as he slipped two fingers inside her.
A moan wrenched out of her throat as her moisture slickened his hand. She reached back, threading her fingers through his hair and pressing his lips against her shoulder as she rocked her hips in rhythm with his fingers.
He dragged his lips to her neck, his breath searing across her shoulder. He bit her neck, sending an aching swirl of dark, heady lust pulsing through her core. Damn it, she liked that too. The biting, the roughness. She quivered, skin tingling, nipples hard and achy.
