Robbie shook his head. “Trouble.”
Chapter 7
After the evening meal, from which Raine was conspicuously absent, Leith made his way up the meandering staircase. His intent seemed clear to all in the great hall. He was going to teach his woman a lesson. And he would leave no room for doubt that she was indeed his woman.
He had spent the better part of his dinner listening to Father MacDonald revealing what he had discovered in one of his many dusty books on one of his numerous dusty shelves.
Mac thought he knew where the particular stones may be that might be the ones of legend.
Damnation! He did not really discredit what the woman had told him about her origins, but neither did he, or could he, actually believe her. Who could believe such a tale as the one she claimed as the truth? No one. Except for Mac.
He had promised the old priest that he would think about what he had suggested. Take the woman to the stones and let the prophecy take hold. Save his castle. Save his people. She was the answer, Mac told him. Why, neither of them knew. As if it was that simple.
He sighed as he climbed the stone stairs. Think he would. But not tonight. He smiled as he thought of all the wicked ways he would punish her.
His footsteps softened as he rounded the corner. He paused and listened outside the door. No sound. He smiled again.
Inside the room, Raine was motionless as she sat by the window, gazing out at the hillside. Nothing stirred except a few fireflies showing their glowing bodies to each other. She chewed her lips and shook her head. How could she have been so stupid? To try and humiliate him is one thing. To do it in front of the entire population of his men was asking for trouble. After her supposed victory, she had second guessed her rationale of besting him. This was not Colorado. It was, after all, sixteenth century Scotland. She had better learn to play by their rules if she wanted to convince someone in this castle to take her to the stones. She might be stuck here forever if she didn’t find those stones.
The slow creaking drew her attention to the door. Certainly, he would not be coming to her room this late at night. Wasn’t it considered inappropriate in this era?
She frowned. Perhaps men didn’t change that much from one century to another.
He stepped softly inside the doorway and stilled, letting his eyes adjust to the dark. There was a haphazard lump on the bed and assumed it was her. He had no plans on tainting her reputation. Oh, no. He just wanted to show her that he was laird of the castle, lord to his people, and husband to this hot tempered wench. He couldn’t help the smile that continued to tug at his lips.
He lit a candle and turned, but stopped dead in his tracks. Mischievous eyes met blazingly angry eyes.
“Did you think to sneak in here and take me by surprise? To – to – to rape me?” Raine’s temper momentarily outweighed her fear.
Folding his arms over his chest, he let out a breath. “My lady, I have never had to resort to rape. My women have always been willing.”
He looked smug. Too smug. Raine turned her back to him.
“Please leave.” Her tone was weary. She needed to rest and think about how she would escape marriage to a Scotsman in the wrong century, and it was wearing on her.
She never heard him move so she started when his fingers closed over her shoulder. His voice was like warm honey on her frayed nerves. “My lady, you should rest.”
When she looked at him sideways, he gave a light chuckle. “I promise not to harm you or take your virginity.”
He took her elbow in his fingers. The firelight cast an eerie glow over one half of his face, making his eyes appear to be glowing. “Not yet anyway.”
She inhaled as her eyes flashed bright green directly at him. He laughed but gently steered her towards the bed. She resisted only slightly. Turning to him, she was prepared to inform him that she was quite capable of putting herself to bed without his help when his lips covered hers.
She tensed but did not turn away. Maybe it was the tiredness she felt in her bones. Maybe it was the fear of never returning home. Maybe it was the deep, masculine, spicy scent of him that filled her nostrils. Maybe it was the heat from his lips that seemed to work magic on her own to make them become as yielding as never before.
The pressure from his lips increased until her mouth opened under it. He wasted no time. His tongue slowly and wondrously invaded the sweet, warm orifice. A sound came from deep in her throat, surprising them both.
She leaned into him, and her fingers curled in his shirt. His arms encircled her while his fingers kneaded the perfect little dip that was the small of her back. He was amazed at how she fit perfectly against him. He had had other women, lots of them, but there was always a slight awkwardness. Either they were too tall or too short, too slim or too thick.
He stooped and hooked her knees around his wrist and in one deft movement had carried her to the bed. The smooth embroidered coverlet had been pushed to the side when Raine had given up on sleep earlier. Now they lay sprawled invitingly to the giant laird carrying his woman.
The cushioned mattress gave way under her slight weight but plunged deeper as Leith’s weight was lowered on top of her. Her arms were entwined around his neck as he pulled back. Her lashes fluttered open. The feelings welling up inside of her were squelched at the look of triumph that was on his face.
She tensed. “Get off of me.”
She tried to roll away, but he held her still.
He nipped her bottom lip and held it between his teeth. “Uh uh.”
She brought her knee up, preparing to make contact with his groin, but he deftly dodged the promisingly painful blow.
“Now, now, my lady. Were ye not enjoyin’ yerself just a wee bit?” His Scottish accent seemed to thicken when they were alone.
She snorted and tried to twist her wrists out of his grasp. She failed. “Is that what you thought I was doing? Enjoying myself? Ha!”
He was not fooled. Her head was turned to the side to avoid his lips but it only granted him better access to her lovely neck. He took full advantage and swooped in for a nibble. In an instant she choked on her breath. Her leg suddenly developed a mind of its own and wrapped itself around his hips. Leith took that as a good sign. He would make her wanton with need and then take his leave. Such punishment might remind her not to challenge his authority.
His large hands moved over her arm, down her ribcage to feel her sharp intake of air, hovered over her hip, and completed its journey on her outer thigh. His free hand moved up her neck and locked itself in her glorious blonde tresses to hold her in place. He increased the pressure of his lips on hers until her mouth was forced open to the invasion of his tongue. Raine resisted for a heartbeat and then met him stroke for stroke. He smiled to himself. She should have been crowned with a mane of red hair instead of gold for all the passion she exuded.
He cupped his hand on her woman’s mound and moved his fingers slowly, rotating in small circles, enjoying the way her breath was growing heavy. The bed had started to accommodate the slight rocking motion that had started between the great Scotsman and his foreign woman but neither of them noticed.
His hands were so large and his body so heavy as he leaned on top of her. She dug her nails in his shoulder as he shifted, not wanting to release his weight from her.
She was mindless, wanton, and she didn’t care. Her breath was ragged and her skin was covered in a fine layer of sweat which, she noticed, he enjoyed biting or licking. Both of which were scandalously enjoyable at the moment.
Withdrawing his mouth from hers and disentangling himself from her web of limbs, he stood up. She whimpered and leaned up on her elbows, her disheveled locks of hair scattered over her face. She blew the strands from her eyes. “What are you doing?” Her voice was a little more breathless than she would have liked.
Leith chuckled. “I am off to bed, my lady.” He paused. “Alone.”
She made a noise of disbelief. “Then what was….this?” She gestured to the bed.
/> He leveled his gaze at her and through the flickering of the candlelight she saw as well as sensed the fierceness in his eyes. “This was a taste of what we will share on our wedding night. My leaving is what will teach ye obedience and submission to my authority.”
As he turned on his heel to leave, she sprang from the bed. Pure agitation flowed through her veins. He had turned her into a half wit female mad with passion, willing to give up her virginity to him, only to be thwarted which left him in control – again.
She poked him in the chest with one finger and spat, “There will be no wedding night for us. For the tenth time, I am not your fiancé, and we are not getting married! Tonight…this…this…” She stuttered. “This was nothing.”
Leith had little patience left for this. The chill in his voice was as cold as his passion had been burning minutes ago.
“Believe ye me, lass, ye are indeed my fiancé and will be my wife. Believe also that this is my castle and these are my people. I lead them, I feed them, I protect them. I will not have anyone – including ye – usurping my authority.” He stepped towards her forcing her to take a step back.
“Ye willna challenge me. Ye will obey me. Ye will support my decisions, whatever they may be, and willna complain. Ye will not wear men’s trews. Ye will marry me in a week’s time, and ye will warm my bed.”
He held up his hand when she started to protest. “That is the end of it. I have been more than obliging since yer arrival but my patience is at an end with it all. Ye will behave as a woman of the keep should, and that is the end of it.”
The door shut with a dull thud, and she stood there staring at it stupidly. She chewed her lip, still tasting him. She thought better of chasing him and giving him what for then decided against it. There was no telling if he might turn things around and reverse the consequences for that action. She had wantonly abandoned herself to this stranger. She should be thanking him for stopping his seduction of her when he did. She might not have had the willpower to stop. She harrumphed and slapped her pillow. She wouldn’t thank him for anything until she was standing in front of the rough hewn rocks that had the power to transport her back to her own time.
One week. He had said one week. She licked her lips, thinking again of the feel of his lips on hers as he lay half on top of her. Angrily, she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. Damn him. She was her own woman, independent, free. She sighed. And desperately wanting him to continue what he had started.
As she lay in the large bed, she stared at the ceiling. One week. How was she to escape her impending marriage and convince her would-be husband to take her to the stones she so badly needed to go to?
Rolling onto her side, her thoughts fixed on the laird of the keep. In her minds eye, she saw his long black hair, his clear blue gaze fixed on her. She clenched her fist and thought she felt his callused hands against her palms. She sighed again.
He was right. This was torture. She would never sleep with visions of that burly Scotsmen in her head all night. She punched the pillow and kicked the blanket and called him every vile name she could think of.
Chapter 8
Leith leaned against the door inside his chamber. He sighed and looked heavenward. He had not wanted to stop. The tightness of his trews attested to how much he had not wanted to stip. God knows he had wanted to continue and take his release and watch her sweet face as she reached her own pleasure. He threw his tunic on the bed and went to the wash basin. His squire had drank too much at the evening meal and been dismissed for the night. Leith would see himself to bed. Alone. Just as he had told that golden vixen.
One week. His mother would arrive on the morrow and continue with the preparations that were already taking place. He would soon be overrun and outnumbered by women. Thrust from his own castle. Not that he minded giving the women their head once in awhile for occasions such as this. He just hoped that his soon-to-be wife did not think that she wore the pants in this house. Literally. He did not know if he could “discipline” her again as he had tonight. He had indeed left her wanting him, but on the other end of the spectrum, she had left him wanting as well. With more need than he cared to admit.
He sprawled on the massive wood bed with its intricate carvings and silk bedspread. He had not liked the idea of a wedding, but as his mother and brother had so avidly and often pointed out, he needed and heir and his castle needed a woman to run it.
Lady Brighton had been a solution to the problem simply because she was fair of face and seemed biddable enough to give him children yet offer him the space he craved.
He rubbed his hand over his face. The only space he craved right now was the one next to a blonde haired lass with fiery green eyes.
It seemed that the entire castle was in an uproar. Lady MacGregor had arrived an hour earlier and had wasted no time in setting things upside down. The castle had enough servants to accommodate those at the castle on an everyday basis, but in Lady MacGregor’s opinion, it would not do to be short staffed during what she thought was the event of the season. Her son, her heir, had finally found a wife. It was now her job to dictate all events leading to getting her son to the altar so he could do his job in the marriage bed and deliver some grandchildren to her.
Leith leaned against the wall in the shadow of the day and folded his arms across his chest. He sighed. How dear his mother was to his heart, but how she drove him crazy. After his father had died, she had mourned for years, and used matchmaking for her sons as her newest occupation.
“Leith!” his mother exclaimed, smiling.
She had been so intent on instructing the servants into some kind of organized chaos that she had failed to notice her son.
Returning her brilliant smile, he sauntered over and warmly kissed her cheek. Frowning and tsking, she grabbed his cheeks as she had done when he was a child, and pulled him down to her as she planted a loud kiss on his lips.
With a slight blush, he returned her ferocious hug. “Mother, it is good to see ye.”
“Well, it is absolutely wonderful to see you, my son,” she said, beaming.
She squeezed his arms, and then moved to his chest and face. He sighed, “Mother, I know what you are doing. I eat well enough.”
Lady MacGregor’s laugh rang through the hall. “Och, lad, you will never eat as well as when I was raising you.”
She gave another squeeze. “You feel fit enough.”
Leith slipped an arm around her waist and walked with her, heading away from the busyness of the castle. “I trust your journey was pleasant.”
Outside the keep, the sun was breaking through the clouds to reveal a bright blue sky promising a warm and clear day. The breeze carried the scent of lavender and heather while the trees rustled softly.
Lady MacGregor smiled up at her son. “So.”
“So?”
“So…how is she? Do you get along?”
Leith kissed her hand and sighed. “That is a complicated question.”
She waved him away. “No, it is not. Either she likes you or she doesn’t. And if she does not, then you are doing something wrong. And if that is the case, then we shall have to remedy whatever it is.”
Frowning, he threw her a heated glance. “What makes you think I am the one doing something wrong?”
“Darling, it is your job to woo her. No matter that you are handsome or have wealth. She needs you to capture her heart, and you must put your utmost efforts forth.”
He remembered his last efforts he put forth as he held Raine against the wall and felt her warm breath coming in quick gasps as he held her creamy thighs. He smiled.
“So, you have already practiced your charms on her? How has she responded?”
His footing suddenly slipped. He cleared his throat and replied, “Perhaps we should not discuss this, Mother.”
“Oh, posh. We will discuss this, and we will discuss this now. I need grandchildren, Leith. I will not be here forever and Hell’s Gate needs an heir.”
“Yes, Mother,
I know. I know,” he replied dispassionately. He had heard this argument before. Many times.
“I know that we have had this discussion before, but Leith,” she took his hands and forced him to meet her gaze, “you must marry and have children. And I should hate for you to marry for anything but love. I was fortunate with your father, but that is a rare occurrence.”
“I have kissed her.”
Her face brightened. She giggled like a schoolgirl and gave a little jump. Clasping her hands under her chin, she pressed “And?”
He decided to humor her. “And…well…I do believe she liked it.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And did she kiss you back?” she asked, exasperated.
He scanned the fields and shuffled his feet, drawing out the moment. She swatted his arm. “Do not be a buffoon! Did she like it?”
“Yes, Mother, I do believe she did,” he answered, somewhat smugly, as he remembered Raine’s response.
“Is she as beautiful as I hope?” Then added mischievously, “For the children’s sake.”
Leith laughed and replied, “Ah, yes, the children that have yet to be borne to the woman I have yet to marry. Those children?”
“Well,” she said, pouting, “I just like to think ahead. So, is she?”
“Yes, Mother, she is beautiful. Unbelievably so.”
He pictured her face in his mind. “She has hair the color of golden wheat and eyes the color of the greenest sea. Her cheeks have the deepest dimples that begged to be kissed.”
He smiled as he became lost in thoughts of her. “She is not tall, only reaching here,” he placed his hand midchest. “Her temper is as hot as her beauty. When she is angry with me, her eyes fairly flash daggers at me. Her hands are smooth but strong enough to wield a sword.”
At his mother’s sharp gaze, he briefly recounted the mini battle in the courtyard. Lady MacGregor’s hand fluttered to her throat as she said breathlessly, “Did she really? Oh, my.”
As a second thought, “She didn’t hurt you, did she?”
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