DevilsHeart

by Laura Glenn

  Rathe chuckled in her ear as he slipped his arm around her waist. “‘Go to hell’, I understand. But ‘fuck off’? What does that even mean?”

  She tensed against him, her heart aching at his nearness. She allowed him to draw her back into the keep and away from prying eyes before she spun around and shoved him.

  He backed away, holding up his palms as though to surrender. “Leah—”

  “Don’t say my name,” she spat, her pulse jerking in instinctive pleasure as her name fell from his lips.

  He cocked one eyebrow as he stared down his nose at her. “I am not allowed to say your name?”

  It was a childish, desperate impulse. But it continued to worm its way through the chaotic thoughts and feelings whirling through her head. She crossed her arms, locking her jaw as she returned his stare.

  A heavy, dismissive sigh rumbled forth from his chest. “You are not making any sense. Come, it is time to go. We will speak of this later.”

  A strange mashup of images swirled in her head, sending her heart into a dark, downward spiral. The woman’s hand on Rathe’s cock. Simon and Mandy in Vegas. And then, from out of nowhere, Andrew’s voice chimed in repeating stories of Rathe’s unfaithfulness to his last wife.

  She refused to play the fool again. She narrowed her eyes at him, a surge of anger loosening her usually careful tongue. “No, there’s plenty of time for you to go fuck her. I’ll wait outside.”

  She turned but he grabbed her wrists. He pushed her backward until she hit the stone wall. She thrust her hands against his chest, wrenching her body away from him in an effort to escape.

  Rathe pinned her arms to either side of her head and pressed his body along the length of hers, halting her struggles. Her chest heaved in frustration over the sudden loss of freedom.

  His nostrils flared, rage glowing in his eyes as he tilted his face down to her. His lips thinned and skipped across hers on their way to her ear. “You are the only woman I want to fuck.”

  She winced at his jagged, vulgar emphasis on the last word and tried to twist her wrists out of his grasp.

  He tightened his hold and nipped at her ear with his teeth. “Stop, Leah.”

  His breath caressed her ear, warming her skin and she was drawn back into him. The pang in her heart softened with the steady beat of his. His woodsy scent infiltrated her lungs.

  “Yes, I have spent many a night with Janet,” he rumbled against her ear. “But that was in the past. Unless you are willing to lift whatever witches’ spell keeping me from getting hard at the sight of any other woman but you, I suggest you calm down and listen before accusing me of infidelity.”

  The air left her lungs in a rush. He touched his lips to the skin just below her ear. She pressed her lips together, preventing the sigh of contentment building within her chest from escaping. She was still too angry, too hurt. Maybe Rathe was innocent in all of this, but how likely were those odds?

  “Do you know what it does to a man when even a woman’s hand on his cock can’t get him hard? But you…a smile, the scent of your hair, or now as you rage at me. It all brings me to life.”

  She resisted the warmth of pleasure his words engendered, fighting to keep the anger tensing her muscles. As if sensing a crack in her armor, he pressed his body further into hers, dropping his lips to her neck. His rigid shaft pulsated against her belly. Her inner thighs tingled, her nipples peaking against his chest, suddenly sensitive with every movement.

  “Was it that witch? The one who gave you the amber pendant? Or is it you?” His teeth grazed her throat and a dark thrill swirled through her abdomen. “Are you a witch?”

  A shimmer of trepidation slithered down her spine. The last thing she needed was to be accused of witchcraft. “No,” she shot back.

  He smiled against her skin, skipping one finger across her palm as he held it hostage against the wall. She shivered.

  “I suppose there is little to complain of as long as you continue spreading your legs for me,” he murmured.

  A surge of irritation mingled with the desire building within her. She renewed her struggles, drawing a soft laugh from his throat as he tightened his hold on her wrists.

  He dragged his lips along her jaw, relaxing his body against her. And then came the surrender. Heat radiated outward from her core until her limbs softened, her breaths slowing into a disquieting rhythm.

  She struggled to maintain her anger. “Your hands were on her.”

  He pulled back, their eyes meeting. “To push her away. Janet had sought me out.”

  “Why?”

  His deep chuckle vibrated through her chest, sending little lightning bolts of lust from her hardened nipples to her core. “A little something of which you know all too well.”

  “What’s that?”

  He gave her a boyish grin. “Jealousy.”

  All at once, he released her wrists and stepped away.

  She almost crumpled to the floor. Scrambling to hold on to the wall, she willed the tension back into her muscles. Her mouth dropped open to retort, but nothing came out and she clamped it shut.

  The man was pure evil. Crude, annoying, and evil. No wonder he was called the Satan of the Highlands.

  He cocked his head back with an air of arrogance. “I guess neither of us likes to share.” He gave her a wink and stepped out the door. “Come, lass. It is time to say your goodbyes.”

  Her shoulders tingled in mortification, every instinct within her urging her to find a nice little hiding spot until everyone who had witnessed her little outburst in the courtyard had given up and gone home.

  Including Rathe. Maybe he was innocent. Maybe not. But one thing was certain—the man was an arrogant asshole.

  “I am not above throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you out myself if need be, Leah.”

  She groaned and rolled her eyes. The man had no shame and would have no problem carrying her kicking and screaming through the courtyard. Hell, he’d probably tie her up and gag her too without a second thought.

  She dragged herself away from the wall and stepped into the doorway, pausing as her eyes readjusted to the sun. Her gaze landed on Rathe’s outstretched hand. Her hand shook as she took his, her cheeks heating as the courtyard quieted once again.

  She bit her lip and glanced into the keep. Could she get away with refusing to leave? But then she caught Janet’s stare from where the woman stood in the middle of the great hall. Her arms were crossed, her eyes narrowed into slits as she glared at Leah.

  An unnerving chill rushed down Leah’s spine. The keep no longer seemed like such a safe place after all. With the creepiness of her earlier exchange with Andrew and now Janet’s eyes throwing daggers at her, Rathe had more in common with a fuzzy, warm teddy bear than either of those two.

  She turned toward Rathe. As he led her toward the mormaer and his family waiting at the end of the courtyard, guilt set in. Had she just stolen another woman’s man? Was she now the “other woman”?

  “Were you and Janet…I mean, were you together?” She shook her head as her stomach sank. Now who was the asshole?

  He stopped, his brows drawn together. “Woman, I already admitted I had bedded her.”

  “No. Were you in a relationship?” she whispered, stepping closer to him in order to maintain their privacy while dozens of eyes watched their every move. “Were you, you know, hers?”

  He laughed, the skin at the corner of his eyes creasing into adorable crinkles. “In as much as any man here is. Janet is very popular.”

  Lord, help her, but she wanted to kiss those crinkles. “But she was glaring at me. She was angry.”

  He shrugged. “She’s used to my attentions when I visit. It is just a bit of envy.”

  “I don’t steal other women’s men.”

  Exasperation laced his heavy exhalation, but his grin softened the effect. “Then you are the better person. I would not have cared one whit about to whom you belonged. Do not worry. No other woman has any claims on me.”


  The lighthearted gentleness of his tone eased at least some of her newfound apprehension. She allowed him to walk forward once again. But then he came to an abrupt stop and she banged her face into his arm. She jumped back and rubbed the sharp pain out of her nose.

  “Is there another who has claim to you?” he asked, his tone turning dark. “Someone back home, perhaps?”

  Her brows lifted in surprise, her mind racing. Was she imagining the uncertainty in his tone? She searched his face for anything contradictory but only a faint hint of worry dulled his eyes.

  Worry? No. Rathe wasn’t the type to worry. Especially not about other men.

  She almost laughed as Simon’s image came to mind. “No. I don’t have anyone back home. Not anymore.”

  Rathe gave her a curt nod and led her over to the mormaer and his family. He stood aside as Glenna threw her arms around Leah’s legs.

  “Ne pas aller!” the little girl mumbled into Leah’s skirts. “Vous me manquerez.”

  Do not go! I will miss you.

  Tears stung Leah’s eyes and she pulled the child’s arms away so she could squat down at eye level. She brushed a dark curl away from Glenna’s face and gave her a hug, whispering reassurances they’d see one another again.

  Once Glenna had decided it was time to let go, Leah stood and received hugs and well wishes from the rest of the family. Alpina was the last to say goodbye and though she wished Leah well, the fearful look in her eyes as they flitted toward Rathe gave away her fears.

  Leah spun around as soon as she was able and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. Saying goodbye had never been something she was good at. She never could keep it together and it always took others by surprise. Being shy and quiet, she’d often been accused of coldness or snobbery simply because she wasn’t exuberant enough or affectionate toward people she didn’t know well. But her emotions had always run deep, ironically so deep her mother would accuse her of being too sensitive. Leah could never seem to win.

  She glanced up at Rathe, who was watching her with a strange shadow of something akin to satisfaction or even pride reflecting in his eyes. Part of her wanted to ask him about it, but the larger part just wanted to leave. Carrying the weight of everyone’s stares and open curiosity was exhausting.

  She didn’t stop as she swept past him. His fingertips glided across the small of her back as he fell into step beside her, guiding her toward two horses waiting with stable hands at the exit through the castle walls.

  He touched her elbow as they approached the smaller of the horses. It was a gorgeous animal with sleek black fur that almost shined blue in the sun. The horse turned his head, flicking his eyelashes as though sizing her up and then twisted away in obvious dismissal.

  Rathe took her hand and patted the seat of the saddle. “Up you go, lass.”

  She didn’t move. She stared at the back of the horse’s head, her stomach full of butterflies. She’d never once ridden a horse. Transportation with its own mind always seemed unwise. “I don’t know how.”

  His fingers twitched against her arm. “You have not ridden before?”

  She shook her head.

  “How…” His hand slid up her arm to the back of her neck and rested there as he leaned toward her. “You never learned?”

  “No, we never needed to. Horseback riding is just…a hobby, I guess you could say, where I come from.”

  “Hobby?”

  She sighed in agitation. Maybe she should just get on the damn horse and worry about getting thrown and breaking her neck later when she didn’t have such a large audience. She lifted her hand to grab onto the saddle. The horse grunted and sidestepped away from her.

  “Come, you will ride with me.” Rathe turned her toward a larger, dark-brown horse. With all of the grace of a sleek jungle cat, he gained the saddle in one fluid movement and extended his hand down to her.

  She gave a sideways glance toward the horse’s face. The animal met her gaze and then rotated his eyes away as though her presence was of little consequence.

  As she raised her hand toward Rathe’s, her stomach roiled in apprehension. There seemed to be something too permanent, something very final in placing her hand in his. As his fingers wrapped around hers, she hesitated, her feet rooted to the earth.

  “I can’t,” she whispered with a violent shake of her head.

  He gripped her hand, his muscles tensing to hold her in place. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “You are a bit of a skittish thing, aren’t you, lass? I promise my horse will be gentle. You will be safe.”

  She swallowed hard, shaking her head faster. “No, it’s not that. It’s just that I-I can’t do this. I can’t—”

  He squeezed her fingers. “Cannot what, lass?”

  “I can’t go with you. I can’t be your wife. Not if you’re going to be with other women. I can’t go through that again. I won’t.”

  He pulled her close and leaned down, irritation crinkling his brow. “I already explained about Janet.”

  “Were you with other women when you were married before?”

  His lashes flicked upward. His lips thinned as he stared at her. “I was no stranger to taking pleasures outside the marital bed.”

  Leah’s knees threatened to crumple beneath her just as her heart sank, but somehow she found the strength to remain steady. She dropped her gaze to her feet, pulling her hand back. “I can’t do this.”

  He yanked her forward against his leg. “You are my wife.”

  “I won’t be made a fool of again.”

  “For the love of God, woman, how many times—”

  “I was supposed to have been married over two weeks ago,” she mumbled, her voice cracking. “But he was with another woman. Everyone saw it. Rathe, I won’t—”

  “Then I will not touch another woman.”

  Her eyes shot up to his in disbelief. “What?”

  He lifted her fingers to his lips. “As long as you remain faithful to me, I will be faithful to you.” He pressed a kiss into her flesh, his eyes never leaving hers.

  It was unnerving. And thrilling. And way too much to handle. Her breath caught in her throat and her lips dried. Could she trust him? Others had whispered to her of his dark side, of the evil which lay beneath. But who had more to gain from lying, Rathe or the others? Andrew she could figure out, since the two seemed like rivals anyway. But Alpina? What would she have to gain?

  But Rathe had just admitted to her his past infidelities. Not to mention hinting to her before at the troubles in his past marriages. He had seemed forthright and sincere then and just as much now. She forced her gaze back, searching his features for any twitch, any muscle in seeming incongruence with his words. Something to which she could attach her protests. Something that would allow her to convince him to leave her behind. But there was nothing.

  Earnestness smoothed the crinkles out of his brow as he tilted his head. “Whoever he was, he was a fool for letting you go. I will not make the same mistake.”

  An inexplicable surge of joy shot through her heart. Odd. Where was the hesitation? The apprehension? Where was the anger that her plans to search for the pendant were foiled again?

  He released her hand and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her up onto his lap. He settled her in front of him, draping both of her thighs across one of his own so she sat sidesaddle. His arms encircled her to take the reins. She relaxed against his chest, soothed by his warmth and commanding presence.

  He leaned toward her, brushing her hair away from her ear with the tip of his nose as his lips grazed her skin. “Time to go home, lass.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Leah glanced behind her at the black horse that followed riderless after Rathe’s horse. Silky mane as black as the night sky. Dark, fathomless eyes. It seemed so docile now. Plus, now that she’d spent more hours than she cared to count riding with Rathe, it didn’t seem as frightening. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad learning how to ride.

  “Do you think you could teach me to ride?”


  “I have a feeling you are already pretty good at it.”

  Her brows furrowed for a moment. What…

  She smacked Rathe on the arm.

  “Oh, you mean horses,” he corrected with an exaggerated, fake tone.

  She rolled her eyes. The incident that morning in the mormaer’s castle seemed so far away now. Almost as though it was a lifetime ago. Without the prying eyes of dozens of people around every corner, a sense of ease replaced a bit of her anxiety. Rathe laughed and joked with his men and gently teased her. She couldn’t help but smile every time he did. The joy and comfort glowing in his features seeped into her, warming her heart.

  And he’d been attentive. Always ensuring her comfort. Making sure she had enough to eat at lunch and plenty of privacy when needed. She wasn’t used to such careful consideration.

  “Yes, I mean horses.”

  He gave her waist a squeeze. “Perhaps tomorrow morning. I am enjoying this time with you all to myself too much.”

  She pressed her lips together to prevent a smile from forming. She needed to be careful and not let her heart run away with her. In truth, they’d spoken very little thus far. She still knew very little about him and was unwilling to strike up much of a conversation with his men surrounding them. Most probably didn’t speak English, but her shyness prevented her from speaking much anyway.

  She shifted against him in an attempt to encourage the blood flow back into her now-numb hip. She’d about had it with this sidesaddle bullshit. It was expected, of course, since throughout much of history a woman riding astride like a man was considered unladylike.

  He sucked in a breath. His hand snaked around her hip and down her thigh. “You keep wiggling that sweet little backside against me and I will have to stop the men for another respite.”

  “Sorry,” she breathed, her thigh tingling beneath his hand. “This isn’t the most comfortable way to travel. I should be able to sit like you.”

  “So, why do you not?”

  She paused. “Isn’t it supposed to be unladylike or something?”