DevilsHeart

by Laura Glenn

  Within a few seconds, Ros joined his brother. “Yes, welcome, my lady. Our wives are looking forward to meeting you. As soon as you are settled, that is.”

  Leah smiled and nodded. Of course, it would help if she could converse in Gaelic with them.

  The two men took their leave and Rathe motioned for her to join him at the table. Two women carried in bowls of soup and bread, setting them upon the table and curtseying before disappearing back into the corridor leading to the kitchen.

  “You have not yet eaten?” he asked, tearing a chunk of bread from the loaf and buttering it before handing it to her.

  She shook her head, fidgeting with her soup spoon as she accepted his offering. “No, I was busy with the children.”

  He nodded and dove into his soup. She took several small bites, glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes. They were alone for once. Well, as alone as anyone ever seemed to be in a thirteenth-century keep. Questions tumbled through her head. Questions about Daniel, Màiri’s mother, Rathe’s childhood. Anna had said he’d had a rough time growing up and he’d already told her about his illegitimate birth, but Leah hadn’t yet dared ask him more about it. She didn’t want to dredge up painful memories.

  His spoon clattered at the bottom of his empty bowl and she jumped.

  “What do you wish to speak to me about?” he asked, his voice full of ease and authority.

  This new mind-reading thing was getting annoying. A nervous heat rushed through her, shoving the words out of her mouth. “I know so little about you.”

  He shrugged. “What is there to know that is so much more important than what you already know?”

  Her lashes flicked upward in consternation at the cryptic answer. “And what is it I already know about you?”

  The corner of his mouth turned up in an infuriating, smug grin. “You tell me.”

  This time she rolled her eyes, drawing a pleasant, rumbling chuckle from his chest.

  “Well, you’re about as arrogant as the man I was supposed to marry before you came along.” As soon as the words left her mouth, her eyes widened and her hand flew upward to cover her lips. How could she let something like that slip out? Okay, so maybe Simon was arrogant too, but they were different men by far. It was an unfair comparison.

  Rathe lifted his brows as he stared at her, shadows of irritation and genuine surprise passing across his face. “Ouch,” he replied, leaning forward and folding his arms on the table.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, looking back down at her soup. “That’s not really true. Simon was arrogant, but in a different way. You’re…”

  “I am what?”

  She shrugged, swirling her spoon in the soup. “You’re strong. Protective. Thoughtful.” She paused her fidgeting as several other descriptive and sometimes contradictory words rolled through her head. Sexy. Kind. Rough. Gentle. Frightening. Warming. Safe.

  “And smart enough to not toss you aside,” he added.

  She glanced back up at him, catching the twinkle in his eyes and her reserve thawed just a bit more. “Which you didn’t do to Daniel either.”

  The twinkle vanished and he sat back, crossing his arms. “What else was I to do? He was nothing but a helpless, mewling babe nursing at the breast of a kindhearted clanswoman who had taken him in when his mother went missing a couple of days before I arrived home.”

  “Missing? I thought—”

  “We found her lying on the beach. She had thrown herself from the rocky cliffs above. There was no sign of a struggle. No one else was with her.”

  An image of little Daniel flashed through her mind and sadness drew her shoulders into a slump. The poor little thing. She shook her head. “It was good of you to keep him.”

  He shrugged. “I could not send him away. I did not know how her family would treat the bastard son of their daughter who had committed a mortal sin by killing herself. Nor did I know who the boy’s father was, though I eventually heard it might have been some Frenchman at court.”

  Bastard. That word made her cringe. He wasn’t being derogatory in its usage, but it carried such a horrendous connotation it broke her heart for the little, unwanted child. And for Rathe.

  “Because you know what it’s like.” Her stomach sank as she envisioned a young, dark-haired boy with flashing green eyes, alone and outcast for something he couldn’t help.

  His eyes remained expressionless. “It is no life for a boy. He needs guidance, care.”

  “Does Màiri know?”

  “She knows he is not the little brother for which she has been waiting. For now we treat him as a cousin. When he is older, he will foster with another clan. Mayhap the MacAirths. Perhaps the MacBains or the MacDonalds. But he will be treated well and will always have a place here, should he choose it.”

  Her heart softened as she stared at him. How many men would be so thoughtful and kind as to care for the child of an unfaithful wife without any benefit to himself? And to treat that child well no less. Rathe had even smiled at Daniel and touched him with affection when they arrived in the courtyard.

  She took a deep breath. “What happened to you, Rathe? When you were little, I mean.”

  His jaw tensed and twitched. “My mother was given in marriage to another man, but was already carrying me. He found out and she was beaten for the rest of her life because of it. She cared for me as best she could, but I was not allowed to be in my stepfather’s sight. My grandparents would not take me in until she died in childbirth when I was five summers. My father denied me until it was obvious he would have no other sons to succeed him.”

  His gaze scattered about the great hall with a mixture of unease and vindication.

  “I am sorry.” Tears stung her eyes. It was worse than she’d imagined. Abuse. Outright neglect.

  He leaned forward. “Hey now, lass.”

  It wasn’t until his hand covered hers the tears fell onto her cheeks. She whisked them away with the back of her hand. He must have felt so lonely, so frightened. How horrible would it be for such a young child to never know what it was like to feel wanted or loved?

  He slid onto the bench next to her, pulling her hair away from her face and kissing her along her hairline. “Ah, you have such a tender heart, love.”

  She shook her head, an automatic defensiveness stiffening her spine. Her mother had often complained she was too sensitive. Too quick to let the tears fall instead of sucking it up and marching on like a good little soldier. Simon was much like Leah’s mother in that way and would even go so far as to leave the room when she was upset, insisting that he could not reason with her in such a state. Was it so much of a burden to let her express her feelings? Was it too much for Rathe?

  But then he whispered into her ear. “I fear I do not deserve it.”

  The words shocked her tears into ceasing and she turned to him, eyes wide with amazement. Just last night he’d indicated to her he didn’t deserve to go to heaven due to what he’d done in his life. But now to think he didn’t deserve her tenderness or compassion?

  She placed her hand along his jaw, the stubble tickling her fingers. “What? Why would you say such a thing?”

  A brief echo of vulnerability shadowed in his eyes, like something deep and broken. She opened her mouth to speak, wanting to question, to analyze until she could better understand it. But he captured her bottom lip between his, giving it a gentle tug before covering her mouth with his.

  Her fingers trembled along his jaw, her lips melting into his. The weariness in her soul faded and she basked in the new, restorative joy emanating from his touch. This man—this intimidating, sexy, rough, but good-hearted man she’d never in a million years have ever met if it hadn’t been for that damn stone—filled her heart with a lightness she’d never thought possible. She smiled and the trembling of her hands stopped, replaced by a shivering awareness of his nearness deep within her abdomen.

  Just as she parted her lips, inviting his tongue inside, a little giggle behind them broke the silence. Leah jum
ped back in surprise and Rathe laughed as Màiri covered her mouth with her chubby little hands, her green eyes glowing with delight.

  Rathe said something in Gaelic and gave her a brief tickle before pulling her into his arms and kissing the top of her head. Leah’s heart warmed. Brief memories of sitting in her own father’s lap when he came home from work floated to the surface. She’d forgotten about that—how gentle and safe her father’s arms seemed. Of how she would wait all day long just to be near him. But then one day he did not come back. Her mother never shed a tear.

  But Leah did. For many, many nights. And when her mother finally tired of it, Leah hid under the stairs in the basement just so her mother wouldn’t find out and become irritated. She didn’t know then why he’d left. Just that he was gone.

  “You are so good with her,” she whispered, rubbing Màiri’s back.

  “As are you. She just told me how you tucked her and Daniel in tonight.” He cocked his lips into a half-smile, his eyes glistening with affection. “Thank you, lass.”

  She dropped her gaze to the little girl, a bit bashful over the praise. “It was nothing.”

  “No, it was not. She needs a mother’s touch. I know I sprang this on you. I should have warned you. Just give this a chance, love.”

  She blinked several times in rapid succession, surprised by the emotion catching in his voice. He loved his daughter. And he actually seemed to like Leah and want her around. Her heart settled into an easy, pleasant rhythm. She smiled and nodded.

  He wasn’t forgetting he’d already given her the choice of whether or not she stayed, but he was making it damn hard for her to choose.

  Chapter Eighteen

  God in heaven, he loved it when she did that.

  Flipping her long, auburn hair over her shoulder, her hips tilted to one side to support Daniel’s small body as he laid his weary head against her. Smiling down at Màiri as she took his daughter’s hand. Her lashes fluttering with shyness as she caught him staring at her once again.

  It all made Rathe’s chest tighten. He’d always thought Leah was a beautiful woman. But as their days together grew too numerous to bother counting, she became stunning. To his surprise he even relished the familiarity of her softness, her curves, the way her lips tasted. He set about his day every morning looking forward to the end of it when he could lie in the darkness with her wrapped in his arms.

  For the first time in all of the years he had lived in the Sinclair keep, it finally felt like home. And it was all because of her. She brought a soft, steady quiet to the cold stone building. He had grown to rely on it as an anchor at the end of a long day. A woman after his own heart, she abhorred the idea of servants doing for her what she could do for herself. She helped out where she could and was gentle and respectful toward everyone. Màiri trailed behind Leah like a wee puppy every day, mimicking her new stepmother’s facial expressions and wanting to help her with everything. Leah was always so patient with her. And affectionate. His last wife had barely acknowledged his daughter, let alone the servants. Leah had become the mother the little girl had always craved. The one he had always wanted for her.

  The one he wanted to carry his son. He loved the idea of her belly growing large with his bairn and often rested his palm on her stomach at night, hoping to detect a slight swelling.

  Hoping it might convince her to stay. If not for him, then at least for their child.

  He crossed his arms, his eyes roving over her form as she disappeared into the castle with the children. Naptime. Which, as of late, seemed to include Leah as well. His brow furrowed. She had also become very sleepy in the evenings around when the children would go to bed. With the weather turning colder now that winter was fast approaching, he feared a sickness had gotten hold of her.

  Perhaps he should check on her. Maybe just feel her forehead for a fever.

  He instructed Brodie to carry on the training session for the new young warriors and strode across the courtyard. Taking the stairs two at a time, he entered the keep and made his way up to the third floor. The door of the children’s chamber was ajar and he peeked inside, catching Leah’s gaze as she settled Daniel next to a wiggling Màiri who was intent upon making Leah understand in a very loud whisper she was getting too old for naps.

  Leah spoke and one of the servants, Flora, appeared at Màiri’s side. Leah patted the little girl on the leg moved toward the door.

  He stepped back as she slipped out into the corridor, closing the door behind her. Her upper lids were droopy again, a sure sign she was thinking about another nap. She smiled though and stood on her tiptoes to place a soft kiss upon his cheek. A soothing lightness filled his heart.

  And then it hit him.

  He loved her.

  Damn it all, he was in love. With his wife. When the hell had this happened?

  With an awkward, jerking movement, he placed his palm on her forehead. “Not feverish,” he grumbled in Gaelic.

  She pulled his hand down, crinkling her brow. “That’s why you came up here? Because you thought I was sick?”

  He even loved the funny little accent she had when she spoke his language. It was amazing how quickly she had picked it up over the past two and a half months. “You have been sleeping a lot lately.”

  She shrugged and slipped her fingers through his as she cast her gaze down toward his feet. “I haven’t been sleeping well at night.”

  Now she was lying. She had, in fact, been sleeping like the dead. It used to be he would shift in the bed and she would stir, but as of late she would just lie there like a rock. If fact, she had been so far gone last night he dared not wake her despite the raging lust that had overtaken him as he slipped into bed. There was something she was not telling him.

  He pulled her down the hall and into their chamber, closing the door behind them. “The truth, lass. Now.”

  She sighed with more than a bit of drama. “Is it not okay for a woman to be tired in her own home after a morning of taking care of small children?”

  His chest tightened. She was throwing back his response to her when she’d asked him a similar question the first night after they’d arrived home. But her eyes shooting up toward him alerted him to the deeper meaning behind her words. A meaning she was either trying to keep hidden or was only just now sinking into her own mind.

  She had just called his keep “home”.

  He held her gaze as her eyes widened in a mixture of confusion and fear, ready to bolt like a hunted doe in the forest if he made any sudden moves. When she got worked up like this, unwilling to confide in him, there was only one way he had discovered so far to get her to relax.

  He dropped his stare down her body and back up, the corner of his mouth turning up in amusement as the tension melted from her limbs. But he paused at her breasts. The fabric of her overdress stretched taut across them. It was a garment she’d had ever since he’d known her, but it had never looked as though it was too small before this.

  He stepped toward her and she grabbed a fistful of his leine, drawing him in. He chuckled and dropped his lips to the silken skin of her neck. His cock hardened, aching against her soft abdomen as he pressed her back to the wall.

  “I waited for you last night,” she whispered in his ear, nipping at his earlobe with her teeth.

  Shivers coursed through his spine. He ran his tongue along the sweet skin of her neck and she sighed. “You were sound asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow, lass.”

  She tensed. “No I wasn’t.”

  He slipped his hands around her waist, hesitating. He knew all of her curves, how they felt beneath his touch. But something seemed different now.

  “I was but a few moments behind you,” he murmured, kissing her temple. He nudged her head to the side with his nose and flicked her neck with his tongue before sinking his teeth into her flesh and giving her a gentle bite.

  A sweet little moan escaped her throat and he turned her until she faced the wall. She pulled her hair over one shoulder, exposing
her neck to him again as he raked her skirts up her thighs. He laughed. He never would have guessed his timid little wife liked it a bit rough, but he was grateful for it. Quick and dirty, long and slow, he relished it all, especially now it was with her.

  He raked his teeth across her neck again, baring the luscious round curves of her creamy backside to him as he shoved her skirts to her waist. His shaft surged in a pleasureful pain, wanting to sink into her folds right then.

  She placed her palms on the wall, arching her back in invitation. He groaned, sliding one palm down her hip, pressing his cock hard against her ass, as his other hand smoothed forward across her abdomen. She flexed her hips back, her breathing quickening. But once again he hesitated.

  A swelling. Was he imagining it? He caressed her stomach again, peppering kisses along her neck. No, it was there. Just barely. But it was there. And it was new.

  He stilled. Was she…

  “Rathe?”

  He pressed a quick kiss below her ear and gave her a light smack on her backside. “Spread them.”

  She threw a shy but flirty grin back at him, her eyes glowing with an impish twinkle. She shifted her hips in a slow, back-and-forth motion as she widened her stance. A grumble rumbled forth in his chest. Such a tease.

  He grinned and shook his head in surrender. Damn, he loved how confident she was of her allure to him. Of how much he wanted her at any time of the day or night and how willing and eager she was to accommodate him. Let him do whatever he wanted. Trusted him to bring her pleasure. His wife. He would never have guessed it was possible after the two miserable messes of a marriage he’d had before.

  He smoothed his hands down the curves of her buttocks, relishing the milky softness and enticing form as the flesh yielded to his touch. He ripped off his belt, tossing it aside, and freed his cock. It strained toward her and she arched her back, angling her slit up toward him.

  Every muscle in his body tensed. He wanted to fuck her. Now. But, damn it all, with the way his shaft was aching as though it had been two weeks rather than two days since he had last slid into her welcoming flesh, it would not be long before he spent inside her. It would not be long enough.