DevilsHeart

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by Laura Glenn


  She stopped beside Rathe, casting a leery eye toward the MacTavish soldiers not thirty feet behind Andrew. Many of their brows were furrowed, indecision and fear written all over their faces. But others simply stared at their laird, their jaws grimly set and eyes devoid of anything but acceptance at whatever fate was about to befall their laird or them.

  “Plans, wife? What plans were these?” Rathe asked, his eyes never faltering from his prey as he thrust the tip of his sword against Andrew’s chest.

  She swallowed, her throat parched and achy. “I do not know. I wasn’t involved in any plans.”

  Andrew’s eyes grew dark. “Fucking whore,” he muttered, enunciating each word as he glared at her.

  He gasped and swayed back as Rathe dug the sword’s tip into his chest.

  “He had plans with Marjorie, your previous wife,” she said in a rush, determined for the truth to be revealed. “None with me. He tried, back at the mormaer’s castle though. Wanted me to send word to him to rescue me.”

  “Did you?”

  Rathe’s sharp words bit into her heart. Tears stung her eyes. “No.”

  “Tell me everything, right now, Leah,” Rathe commanded. “Tell me what he did. Tell them all so they may hear the truth.”

  Her chest tightened in apprehension. Did he believe her? His sneering tone gave her pause. Was it meant for her or for Andrew?

  “He threatened to destroy the elderly, the women and children who had taken shelter within the castle walls. As well as my children.”

  Rathe’s eyes met hers, revealing a warmth for a split second before the mask of a vengeful, calculating warrior snapped back into place. She almost gasped at the sight, shuddering in terror at the return of the bloodthirsty figure from the netherworld.

  But then her heart grabbed the warmth he had flashed at her. It was meant for her. Meant to reassure her. He believed her. She almost smiled in relief.

  “Our children,” she corrected in a soft voice.

  “Then what?” he asked, the edge of his tone softer.

  “I was thrown into a dungeon overnight and eventually brought into the keep.”

  “Then what?” he growled, punctuating each word with impatience. “I will have his clan know the whole of it, love. There is no shame. You are innocent.”

  Her brows drew together in confusion and she shook her head in exhaustion. “Rathe, I don’t understand—”

  “I just need to know whether I should cut off his balls first or simply dispatch him as is.”

  Her lashes flew up at the gruesome statement. But then it finally hit her. She touched his arm and the muscle beneath her fingers twitched. “Rathe, he didn’t. He tried but I had hidden a knife from supper in my sleeve. I stabbed him but he choked me. I fought him off and hit him with an iron poker when he came after me again. I knocked him out and escaped.”

  The corner of Rathe’s lips twitched into a short-lived smirk of pride. “Do you want to do the honors, lass?”

  She paused, his meaning slow to sink in. But then she shook her head in a frenzy. As enraged as she was, as much as revenge coursed through her blood, she couldn’t do it. What she’d gone through was bad enough. She didn’t need one more thing haunting her.

  Rathe gave her a clipped nod and a wink, suggesting he hadn’t expected her to accept his offer. “Shield her, MacBain.”

  The man beside her turned her around by the shoulders, holding on to them as he positioned himself behind her. “Cover your ears, lass.”

  But it was too late. She jumped at the grisly, dulled punch of metal piercing flesh. A grunt and a moan. The thud of a body hitting the earth. Her stomach lurched.

  “Sorry, my lady,” the man said, walking her back toward Rathe’s horse.

  “Weapons down on the ground now!” Rathe shouted. “Take your laird back to the keep. Lock yourselves inside. The mormaer will deal with the lot of you.”

  Leah grabbed the saddle and leaned against the horse, closing her eyes. It was over. Finally. She bit her lower lip to stop the tremble threatening to send her to her knees in sobs. Now was not the time. Not yet. Not in front of so many strangers.

  Hands slipped around her waist and Rathe whispered her name into her ear. It was her undoing. With her last ounce of strength, she turned in his arms and sagged into his chest. Her entire body shook as the sobs broke free. He accepted the weight of her body, holding her tight and peppering her head with reassuring kisses.

  She grabbed fistfuls of his tunic, digging her nails into the wool fabric. The world around her fell away, leaving only Rathe’s steady heartbeat to guide her through the storm. And she surrendered. Finally allowed her body to release the tension and fear, release her grip on returning home she’d buried deep inside. She was safe. This was home. Right here in his arms. It was all worth it, every last bit of fear and pain.

  And then it eased. Slipping down her arms, draining through her feet into the earth below. Her breathing calmed, the tears finally spent.

  Then words she’d once longed to hear tumbled forth from his lips. “If you wish, lass, I will take you to find the stone.”

  She released her grip, yanking her head backward. Her chest tightened as she stared at him, speechless. His features were drawn tight, the normal liveliness missing from his eyes.

  “Rathe,” she breathed, shaking her head. “Don’t.”

  “I failed you.”

  The pain in his voice tore open her heart. “No.” She grabbed his chin, forcing him to look her in the eye. “You didn’t. You didn’t know.”

  “I should have,” he whispered. “You would be safer at home. Away from all of this.”

  She pressed her lips together and shook her head, the tears welling up once again. “No, Rathe. It is over. It was all Andrew. All of it. The man who attacked me on the way home while you and your men were fighting off those warriors. It was a ploy to make me vulnerable so I would turn on you. Or just to hurt you, maybe. I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter now.”

  His brow furrowed and he shook his head. He cupped her face in his palms. “I love you, lass, but I will not stop you from leaving. I know this place frightens you. It always has.”

  She grabbed his wrists, warmth surging though her heart and strengthening it. This man loved her. This sexy, arrogant, impossible, brute of a man with the biggest heart she’d ever encountered loved her. Her. There was no way in hell she was giving that up. Not for the illusion of safety in the twenty-first century or for antibiotics or hospitals or cops or firemen. Or hazelnut lattes. None of it was worth it if he wasn’t with her. Here she was loved. Here she was alive.

  “I am not going back,” she insisted with a fierce whisper. “I love you.”

  And then his lips were on hers, hungry, desperate, healing. She closed her eyes, welcoming the sweetness of his mouth. God, how she’d missed him. Her belly warmed and the kiss turned tender as though he was savoring her taste.

  “God, lass, I do not deserve you,” he whispered.

  “Yes, you do,” she promised, placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “You are so good. You just don’t see it.”

  A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “Or you are touched in the head. But either way I will take it.”

  She rolled her eyes. That old witch had warned her that her love would be a bit of a devil.

  “Or I will spend my life trying to prove you right,” he added with a smile. “Our babe will be born into a contented house. With a family who loves him.”

  Her lashes flew upward. His smile turned into a knowing smirk.

  “You know?”

  “I suspected before I left, but Màiri confirmed it.”

  Of course she did. Leah laughed.

  “Come, my love.” He pulled his hands away from her face and placed a foot in the stirrups. He swung his leg over until he was seated on the saddle and then extended his hand toward her. “We will not reach home tonight, but we will find some shelter under the stars so you can rest easy for a bit.”

 
She grasped his hand and allowed him to pull her up onto his lap. She curled into his chest, laying her head at the base of his neck. “I am already home,” she whispered.

  Epilogue

  Rathe’s tongue slithered down Leah’s neck to the base of her throat. He nipped at her skin, sinking his teeth into her flesh and pulling back just enough to send a pulse of dark pleasure searing through her skin to pool in her abdomen.

  She clawed at his back, craving his flesh, needing the heat of him. He bent his head, capturing one swollen nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue over it. Her pussy pulsated, moistening and aching. She locked her ankles behind his back, threading her fingers through his hair as he swung his feet to the floor. His fingers kneaded the tender flesh of her backside, thrusting her toward him until his hard, elongated cock pressed into her belly.

  “Touch me,” she begged in a breathless whisper. “Please I need to come.”

  His soft chuckle sent thrilling vibrations through her breast and she bit back a moan, not daring to utter a sound. She must not break the silence. She needed him too much.

  “Damn, I love having such a randy little wife,” he breathed into her ear as he slid a hand between them, arching away from her.

  No fumbling, no feeling around to get it right. He knew exactly where to touch her. Blood surged through her clit, pulsating hard as he pressed into it in tight, fast circles. A weighty fullness entered her core, erotic waves of building, rhythmic sensation coursing through her abdomen. She opened her hips, thrusting toward him, her head falling back as her muscles seized, holding her on the precipice.

  Spinning, vibrating, and finally her pussy convulsed, sending sharp, shooting twists of raw pleasure through her body. She gasped and pressed her lips together. His chest rumbled with a growl as he gave her a rough pull back up to face him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as the tip of his cock pressed against her pulsating folds.

  He grabbed her hips, firelight dancing in his smoldering eyes, and drove his shaft deep inside her in one quick movement. She whimpered, dropping her forehead to his shoulder and shuddering. Her core convulsed around him, stretching and undulating. His fingers dug into her flesh, his pelvis rocking, pounding into her as though desperate for release.

  She bit his shoulder, kissing and sucking on his skin. He ground into her, bringing her clit alive again. Rebuilding the lustful tremors, winding them deep within her abdomen until they sprang forth, sending her writhing. Two hard, direct thrusts, her core stretched to its limit, and he stilled. His shaft pulsating within her, his body vibrating.

  And then he exhaled falling back onto the bed. She giggled and squeezed the muscles of her pussy around his still-hard cock and he shuddered.

  He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her down on top of him, dislodging his shaft from her. “I have nothing left, lass. You got it all.”

  She kissed his cheek and slid down to his side, throwing an arm and a leg across his torso. He smacked her backside and captured her lips for a long, slow kiss.

  “I guess this morning was not enough to slake your lust,” he commented with a smile.

  “I’m just making up for lost time.”

  He chuckled. “And I do appreciate it. I enjoy having my patience so greatly rewarded.”

  A whimper and then a fussy cry carried over from across the room. He kissed her on the forehead and arose from the bed as she scooted back to the headboard. The mattress sank and he settled next to her, cooing at the little bundle in his arms.

  She smiled. This big giant of a man was actually cooing. She reached over and caressed the baby’s head. He turned toward her hand, his face screwing up to release a lusty cry.

  “All right, all right,” Rathe assured him, handing him over to her. “Guess Daddy still is not good enough.”

  She laughed, positioning the child at her breast. He was a hungry little thing. “Soon enough, I’m sure, Mommy won’t be good enough. Then I’ll never see Lucas because he’ll always be running after you.”

  He kissed her cheek. “We will not run far, I promise.”

  She rolled her eyes and caressed her child’s back. She had been so lucky. The birth was perfect. Anna MacAirth had stayed with them for two whole weeks, preparing Leah and then delivering Lucas. Anna had become such a good friend and Leah missed her presence. Now the baby was two months old, she hoped Rathe would agree to take them for a visit to the MacAirths soon.

  “It is the equinox tomorrow.”

  Her gaze darted back to Rathe. “Is it?”

  He nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you regret not going back to find the stone?”

  She sighed and shook her head. “No. I’m home now, remember?”

  He grinned, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Just checking, lass.”

  “I do miss my sister though. I wish I could get word to her I’m okay. Happy, you know?”

  He kissed her on the temple, covering her hand with his as it lay upon the baby’s back. “I know, love.”

  * * * * *

  Calum MacBain cast his eyes to the sky just beyond the mountains spreading out along the loch on the other side. He would be losing light soon. He’d best be getting back.

  He sighed. Why had he let the mormaer talk him into this? He had no interest in such a young bride. The lass was barely fourteen, far less than half his age. Hell, she was younger than his son. He was a man and he wanted a woman, damn it. A woman who would welcome his lusts instead of fear them. One he could be himself with and actually talk to at the end of his day.

  He’d never considered those things before. Not until both of his friends netted such fetching, strong, intelligent lasses. He often made fun of how smitten Galen and Rathe were with their wives, but deep down he envied them, wanted something like that for himself.

  And it certainly wasn’t going to happen with the near child who’d screamed at the sight of him that morning in the Graham’s great hall. Right then and there, he told the mormaer in no uncertain terms he would not be marrying the lass. He didn’t care how far her father had traveled from the border regions or how much money and land was attached to her dowry. He didn’t need a miserable marriage following the cold and awkward one he’d experienced with his son’s mother. Not when marriage could be something more than just an alliance or exchange of money. He already had everything he needed along the rocky strip of Highlands bordering the sea he called home.

  He kicked a rock and something glinted up at him. He stooped to retrieve it. Dusting it off, he flipped it over in his hand. A faceted, amber-colored stone.

  He glanced around, something triggering a memory. Wasn’t Leah somehow involved with a stone such as this? And wasn’t this similar to the legendary Campbell stone which had ended up bringing Anna here?

  Perhaps this was even the same stone Leah had lost. Rathe had made Galen promise to take her to find it if he died and she wanted to go home. Neither of which had come to pass. The quiet, skittish little lass seemed to be contented staying with Rathe despite the fact the man was an unbearable ass at times.

  Calum tossed the stone into the air and caught it with one hand, snapping his fingers shut. Maybe it would bring him a bit of luck and fetch him one of these otherworldly lasses who had so bewitched his friends. He chuckled to himself at the fanciful, unlikely notion, but then stopped as a strange mist swirled around his feet.

  “What the devil?”

  About Laura Glenn

  Laura Glenn, pseudonym for the feisty and imaginative, wine- and chocolate-loving romance author, is an unassuming archaeology student during the light of day. When she is not chasing after her two highly intelligent but equally mischievous children or discussing the social and political state of the world with her husband of eleven years, she can be found daydreaming.

  These daydreams are the fare from which she spins her tales of love and lust. The seed for such an impish hobby was planted at the tender age of fourteen after she read her first romance novel, much to her mo
ther's horror. Soon thereafter, she began to weave simple romances, quickly jotted down in various notebooks during boring high school classes. Years of stories and fantasies later, she hopes that the pastime she has always enjoyed in secret might now bring others some happiness and a little bit of naughty fun.

  Laura welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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  Also by Laura Glenn

  Claimed by a Laird

  Only You

  Print books by Laura Glenn

  Only You

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  Devil’s Heart

  ISBN 9781419993046

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Devil’s Heart Copyright © 2015 Laura Glenn

  Edited by Susan Edwards

  Cover design by Allyse Leodra

  Electronic book publication March 2015

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