The Laird's Willful Lass

by Anna Campbell

  She forced herself to retreat a pace. The effort was painful. Cielo, so far he hadn’t ventured past kisses. How would she bring herself to say goodbye, once she’d given him her body?

  “I’ll see you at dawn?”

  “Yes.” Marina wondered how he’d manage their rendezvous. Or did he mean to take her on the bare hillside? Excitement rippled through her as she imagined how they’d join together wild and free, with the sky above them and only the birds to hear her cries of ecstasy.

  “Stop looking at me like that, or I willnae be responsible for my actions,” he groaned.

  “We must go in?”

  His eyes burned through the dimness. “We must.”

  He caught her up for one more kiss, then released her. She gave a shaky laugh. “Keep at least two feet between us.”

  “Three.”

  “I want you to myself.” There was an intoxicating freedom in saying all the things she’d never dared to voice before.

  “Soon.”

  “Yes, soon.” Which struck her as a beautiful word, although “now” would be lovelier.

  For a charged instant, she hovered on the verge of flinging herself into his arms. Then a bird called from the trees and reminded her that she lived in the real world, not a radiant bubble of passion where nothing else mattered but her craving for this man.

  Reluctant to leave him, but knowing she must, she turned and picked her way back along the bank to the castle. True to his word, Fergus remained a few paces behind her. They didn’t speak. He, like she, must know how close she was to yielding. One coaxing word, and she’d hurl her reputation to the wind.

  Their circumspection went for naught because when they arrived back at the castle, the courtyard was empty.

  Life was odd. When she’d had no intention of giving in to Fergus, Marina hadn’t been self-conscious about his company. Now she’d promised to become his lover, she sensed spying eyes everywhere. She wrapped her arms around herself, and Fergus frowned as he caught up with her.

  “I kept ye out too long. You’re cold.” He lowered his voice. “What I’d give to be able to warm you up.”

  “I’m so warm now, I doubt I’ll sleep. I’m feeling rather bold being alone with you.”

  In the moonlight, his straight white teeth glinted white as he smiled. “Imagine how you’ll feel tomorrow.”

  Imagine. Her heart performed a leaping skip that made her giddy. She raised a shaking hand to her chest, but nothing could calm her raging excitement. Her voice was unsteady as she spoke. “I don’t think you should walk me to my room.”

  “Perhaps not wise.”

  She turned away, knowing if she didn’t go now, she wouldn’t. “Goodnight, Mackinnon,” she said in a normal voice, in case anyone was listening.

  “Goodnight, signorina,” he said behind her, and as she climbed the steps to the massive doors, she heard him whisper, “Dream of me, bonny lassie.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The stone and wood structure huddled down into the landscape. With its sod roof, it looked like an extension of the hillside above it. Unless Fergus had pointed the small building out to her, Marina wouldn’t have known it was there.

  “A shepherd’s hut?” she asked, as she drew her pony up beside his in the morning light. Today, no dogs trotted in their wake. Fergus had left Macushla and Brecon back at the castle.

  She’d awoken, refreshed and brimming with anticipation, as the first lark started to sing. Having chosen to become a fallen woman, she’d had her best night’s sleep since arriving at Achnasheen. Her lack of qualms about her forthcoming ruin proved she was wicked to the bone.

  During the last couple of hours, she and Fergus had spoken about casual matters as he took her deeper and deeper into the hills, away from the coast. Anyone could have eavesdropped on their conversation and come away without a whisper of scandal to share. He’d hardly touched her, too. By now, she was in a fever to be in his arms.

  He dismounted with the animal grace that always made her artist’s soul soar. “You’ll see.”

  “You’re such a tease,” she said, as he lifted her off her pony.

  “I’m getting some of my own back.” When his hands settled at her waist, she placed her palms flat against his chest. This concord between them was so new, it felt daring to touch him. Today he wore traditional Highland dress, a loose white linen shirt and a kilt in the attractive red and black pattern.

  “You look like such a wild and untamed Scot,” she said, studying him. “I’d like to paint you like this.”

  His hands tightened, and that expressive mouth quirked. “Not right now.”

  “No, not right now,” she echoed and leaned in to meet his kiss.

  The world tilted, then tilted some more, as he picked her up and carried her over the rough grass to the strange little building. Her heart dipped and swooped like a swallow taking wing. Dizzy with excitement, she slid her arm around his neck, as he lifted the latch on the heavy oak door between two low-silled windows.

  The dimness inside made Marina blink, but as her vision adjusted, she gave an exclamation of pleasure. “A shepherd with sophisticated tastes, certo.”

  “My father was mad for stalking the deer.” Fergus strode across to the huge bed and set her carefully on the covers. “He had this built so he could stay up in the hills for days on end without sacrificing his comfort.”

  Her breath caught as what was about to happen suddenly gained a solid physical reality it had lacked. Here she was in Fergus’s bed, where soon he’d take her body. Today, her life would change forever.

  The prospect was thrilling—and daunting. Until now, she’d managed to keep her nerves in check, but at this moment, she felt fidgety and far too aware of her lack of experience. She raised one unsteady hand to her throat, where her pulse performed a wild Scotch reel.

  “So we’re private here?” She took in her luxurious surroundings with the carved mantelpiece and leather sofas and elegant mahogany furniture, before her attention returned, as it must, to the man regarding her with brilliant gray eyes. She saw her excitement mirrored there in bright silver.

  “Aye.” He hauled off his boots and came down to lie beside her, raising himself on one elbow so he could look into her face.

  How she hoped he didn’t see her last-minute fit of collywobbles. She was disappointed in herself. Since she’d decided to become his mistress, she’d felt so brave and strong. She didn’t feel brave and strong at this moment.

  “Private and safe.” His eyes glowed as he stared at her, and he brushed the hair back from her forehead. “This part of the estate is still given over to deer.”

  Her lips twitched, even as she trembled under the caress. “And my dear.”

  The warmth of his hand settled the worst of her jumpiness. His touch had always held such power over her.

  “And mine.” He leaned in to touch gentle lips to hers. The sweetness turned her blood to syrup and made foolish tears prickle at her eyes.

  She lifted a shaking hand to stroke his face. How she loved the way the stark bones fitted together to form his striking features. How she loved the way his eyes glowed down at her, as if she were the most glorious creation on earth.

  Fergus kissed her again with more heat, his tongue slipping between her lips to lure her into a sensuous game. She sighed with pleasure and joined the play, flicking her tongue against his and pulling away to nip at his lips.

  He rolled over her, pressing her into the thick mattress. He nuzzled her neck, until she felt likely to melt. An insistent throb set up at the base of her belly, and she tightened her thighs around his narrow hips. Avid to touch him, she shoved aside the loose shirt. Insatiable fingers discovered his shoulders and chest; warm, smooth skin and a scattering of silky hair.

  “I’ve imagined having you in my arms like this since I first saw you,” he groaned against her shoulder. “Yet now you’re here, and reality is so much better.”

  “I wanted you, too,” she responded just as unstead
ily. “All the time.”

  “We have so much to discover.” He sat up to tug his shirt over his head and toss it aside.

  At this first sight of his naked chest, her eyes rounded, and her heart turned over in a somersault. She’d hoped the butterflies in her stomach had settled, but watching a man undress for the first time reminded her of her innocence.

  She gulped for air which suddenly seemed in short supply. “Per l’amor di dio, Michelangelo would weep if he could see you.”

  Her foolish heart turned over again, when she saw that her praise left him at a loss. The Mackinnon looked almost bashful, something she’d never have imagined possible. How delightful.

  Cavolo, she’d better be careful. She expected to find passion in his arms, but this encounter tugged at her wayward emotions as powerfully as it stoked carnal hunger.

  “Go on with you, Marina,” he said gruffly.

  “Si, I will go on,” she whispered, her confidence reviving as she sat up.

  Nervous or not, she couldn’t resist touching him. With a shaking hand, Marina traced a path from one broad shoulder, across to the dark red hair curling over his chest, and down across his flat stomach. Beneath her hesitant exploration, his muscles twitched and tightened. By the time she reached the barrier of the wide black leather belt, his stomach had turned as hard as rock.

  How gratifying that her touch had power over him, too. With greater assurance, she retraced the path, brushing his light brown nipple on the way. He caught his breath on a hiss.

  Interesting. He must like that. How fascinating his body was. How fascinating to discover ways to give him pleasure in return for the pleasure he gave her.

  He caught her seeking hand and brought it to his lips. “Let me undress you, lassie.”

  Marina summoned her courage. It wasn’t as difficult as it would have been five minutes ago. “Yes, please.”

  She liked that he didn’t fumble or rush as he released the buttons on her dark green jacket. With more of that mesmerizing care, he parted the lapels to reveal her fine lawn shirt beneath. When his eyes flared at the sight of her body under the sheer white fabric, her breasts swelled against her corset. Her very flesh longed for him.

  “More buttons,” he murmured.

  She bit back a laugh, as the butterflies inside her fluttered down to rest. She even found the audacity to tease him. “You like a challenge.”

  “It seems I do, at that.” With breathtaking efficiency, he undid the mother-of-pearl buttons down the front of her plain shirt. Her nipples tightened as his hands brushed them through the thin fabric.

  Showing the same care, he spread the edges of the shirt to reveal her corset. His groan of frustration made her laugh. “Don’t give up yet, Mackinnon. It’s only a few hooks up the front.”

  “Easy for ye to say ‘only.’”

  With a patience that made her tremble, Fergus undid her corset. Her pale cream shift beneath was so transparent that it revealed the dark pink peaks of her nipples. When his heavy-lidded eyes leveled on the blatant display, he licked his lips as if he tasted something delicious.

  “Italian lassies wear too many clothes.”

  His fingers busied themselves untying the blue silk ribbon that closed the top of her shift. More tantalizing glances of his hands across her skin.

  The chemise fell open, and her breasts tumbled free into his palms. As he cupped her flesh, a flash of exquisite heat made her cry out. He squeezed again, and another shiver rippled through her.

  The wonder in his expression as he stared enthralled at her naked breasts scored a rift across her heart. The sight of her bosom spilling between the parted edges of her shirt seemed almost more brazen than full nakedness. Against the dark green merino jacket, her skin appeared startlingly white.

  As he touched her, a glow verging on reverence shone in his eyes. He bent to kiss the slope of each pale breast, and she combed her fingers through his thick hair as she held him to her. More unruly emotions. Already this affair took her beyond anything she’d ever imagined. She curved a shaking hand around his shoulder, feeling his sinewy strength beneath her palm.

  “Show me more,” he whispered, his breath making her skin tingle.

  “Si, caro. Con piacere.” He sat back, as she wriggled out of jacket, shirt, and corset, pushing them to the floor in a tangled lump.

  His breath caught, and he reached for her once more. “By God, you were worth waiting for,” he said huskily, his thumbs brushing nipples already hard and aching.

  He took one peak between his lips, drawing on the tip until she moaned and twisted upon the bed. When she was sure she could bear no more of this fierce pleasure, he shifted his attentions to her other breast. She was astonished to learn that desire knew no limit.

  A swift frown darkened his features as he noticed the bruises on her arms from yesterday’s fall. “To think, I came so close to losing ye yesterday.”

  He bent his russet head to kiss each dark mark on her skin. She shivered under his tender attentions, and overwhelming emotion tightened her throat, until her breath emerged in broken gasps. She’d expected him to lavish his sensual skills upon her, but this sweetness made her feel cherished.

  Her fingers returned to tangle in his rich, red hair, and as his teeth scraped her nipple, she pulled on the straight, satiny strands until he grunted. By the time he raised his head, she was shivering with ascending need. The secret hollow between her legs turned slick and hot, and she met his kiss with open-mouthed desperation. His lingering attentions to her breasts made her crave the ultimate joining.

  “Don’t stop,” she croaked in a voice she didn’t recognize.

  He dropped a kiss on the curve of her breast and to her dismay shifted to sit on the edge of the bed. Unable to bear even this much separation, she rose on her knees and pressed into his back. She twined her arms around him, feeling how he trembled. “Fergus?”

  “You drive me right to the brink,” he confessed unsteadily. “Give me a moment.”

  Snatching a choked breath, he caught her hand and placed it between his legs. Touching him where he rose hard and insistent under the soft wool kilt was extraordinary, as though she held the source of the world’s power. Excitement and an echo of her earlier trepidation clenched in her stomach, as she imagined all that strength and potency sliding into her.

  “I want you so much,” Marina whispered, kissing a crooked line across the top of his naked back. The heat rising off his skin made her feel like she hunkered down next to a huge furnace.

  “I want you too much.” His voice sounded like gravel.

  The admission made her release his rod and slide her arms around his waist from behind. “Is that possible?”

  His grunt of laughter held the familiar self-derisive note. “It is when I need to take my time and show ye what you’ve been missing, mo chridhe.”

  She couldn’t imagine desiring him more than she did. “I’m ready for you now.”

  With a gentleness that set her blood moving in languid circles and soothed the upsurge of virginal fear, he stroked her arms. “Not nearly.”

  Cielo, there was more? She’d die of pleasure before he was done. “Don’t make me wait.”

  “There’s no rush, my bonny. I have all day to drive ye mad.”

  “You Highland laddies have high opinions of yourselves,” she said.

  “Aye, and well earned, as you’ll soon see.”

  “I hope it’s soon.”

  “Patience has its rewards,” he murmured. “Trust me, Marina.”

  “Si, I trust you, Fergus,” she said, and tried to ignore how closely her words resembled a declaration of love.

  For a long time, he remained in her embrace. His erratic breathing settled. She’d wanted him to keep feeding her excitement. But as the seconds ticked by, the sweetness of this connection soon seduced her into a sensual dream.

  “Lie back,” he murmured. She stretched out on the bed, her limbs heavy with longing and her heart racing with anticipation.


  He stood to slide her half boots and stockings off. He’d lulled her into quietness, but her lassitude melted away like dew in sunlight when he began to stroke her legs. He ran his hands up her thighs, approaching but never reaching the place where she throbbed with need. When she made a wordless sound of complaint, the brute had the nerve to laugh at her.

  “Patience.”

  “I grow to dislike that word, caro.”

  “Whisht, lassie,” he murmured, bending down to kiss her again. “We’ll get there in the end.”

  He played with her mouth until she was shaking and panting. In a silent plea for more, she raised grasping hands to knead the hard muscles of his upper arms. When he brushed his lips over her instep, she jerked against the bed, although compared to what he’d done to her breasts, the kiss was almost chaste. She attained such a pitch of hunger, every touch sent heat exploding along her veins.

  Fergus dropped a rain of kisses across her breasts before with impressive efficiency, he released her skirt and petticoats. He drew the garments down to reveal filmy drawers under the rucked-up shift. His eyes turned bright with hunger, as he undid his wide black belt and let it drop with a thud to the floor, followed by the soft rustle of his kilt falling away.

  His nakedness transfixed Marina. “What a superb man you are,” she sighed, her heated gaze tracing his powerful leanness, before focusing on the hard column of flesh rising from a nest of dark red hair between his legs.

  Her hands closed on emptiness at her sides as apprehension stirred anew. He was so very big. Per pietà, how would all that male strength feel as it moved inside her?

  “Thank you,” Fergus said, and he bestowed his rare, full smile upon her. Whenever he did, she always felt like he gave her a wonderful gift. Her fleeting fear vanished as if it had never been.

  Marina had imagined she’d feel nervous when a man saw her naked for the first time. She’d been nervous when he first joined her on the bed. But Fergus had built her responses inch by inch, until all she cared about was finding an answer to this endless desire.